


First Letter

by NorthSol



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU - Everyone lives, M/M, Post BoFA, and fluff, and mature content, dontkillmeplease, eventual angst, mischievous Hobbitlings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthSol/pseuds/NorthSol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has many letters that he never sent to Erebor, even if many questions plague the Hobbit he stays his hand. But not even the-not-respectable-anymore Bilbo Baggins had anticipated meddlesome Hobbitlings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this fic works with its own timeline, as Frodo doesn't go living with Bilbo before loooong after the quest to Erebor (even after Balin goes to visit Bilbo before going to Moria I believe) so please, don't shout murder just because the time doesn't add up (I've done my research I swear) 
> 
> Oh and be gentle please... I'm hardly the best writer out there and this is my first Hobbit fic!

Small cries woke Bilbo up as if Smaug himself had roared at him. He hurried out of his comfortable bed and nearly tripped as his knitted blanket tangled itself up with his legs. He kicked said blanket and moved swiftly down the dark hall of his still warm hobbit hole. Young Frodo tossed around in his sleep, whimpering and crying gently, Bilbo stopped for a moment and sighed with a worried expression before he hurried over to the Hobbitling trying to soothe the sleeping boy. 

“Shh Frodo, shh my boy it’s alright, it’s only a dream.” the older brushed away some curly locks from his nephew’s face. Frodo awoke with panicky eyes and a whimper.  
“There now, see, only a dream.” Bilbo continued to caress the younger’s face in soothing motions. Even if no word was said by the little one, Bilbo understood from the determined look that his nephew would refuse to go back to sleep any time soon. He chuckled and seated himself more comfortably by his little Hobbitling. 

“Well now, such stubbornness I haven’t seen since I traveled with Dwarves!” He began and Frodo instantly perked up and, when invited, wiggled over to lay his head in Bilbo’s lap so his uncle could run his hands through the dark curls.

Bilbo began with a few choice pieces of his adventures that portrayed Dwarven stubbornness; Ori refusing to eat “green food”, Dwalin refusing to not spend his extra coins on cookies and other sweet things, Fíli and Kíli refusing to be apart for lengths of times, Bofur stubbornly keeping his hat on in the most strange situations and Thorin… Bilbo’s well-colored tales suddenly halted.

“Uncle…?” Frodo looked up at him, his uncle sporting a “thousand miles stare” made famous by the royal siblings Fíli and Kíli.  
“Hm…? Oh sorry my boy, well where was I? Oh Gandalf-“  
“Nu-uh you were talking about Thorin”  
“Was I? Hm well…” Bilbo had to look up again, in his mind seeing Thorin’s outraged face when he learned of Bilbo’s “betrayal” and the loss of the Arkenstone. Bilbo sighed heavily and looked down at his little nephew instead. 

“Thorin is probably the embodiment of Dwarven stubbornness,” he said, a fond yet sad glint in his eyes. He continued telling the little Hobbit about the stubbornness of Dwarves but skillfully avoided the King under the Mountain. Soon and sure enough Frodo was dozing in his uncle’s lap and Bilbo moved Frodo carefully so his head was on the soft pillows before moving off the bed and out of the room as silent as only a Hobbit could be. 

Instead of going back to his own room, he walked over to the fireplace which still held some glowing embers. Bilbo didn’t even know how many of the old company still lived after the battle, or how things were going so far to the east. The only foreign visitors he had was the occasional ranger or even more rare an Elf or two. He supposed it was his own fault, he could have asked, could have sent letters. Yet he didn't, even if many were written and sealed, named and everything. Frodo asked about them, but Bilbo always brushed it off with an excuse or two.

“I simply don’t understand why you write but don’t send them, aren't letters meant to be sent Uncle Bilbo?” Bilbo smiled at the memory of little Frodo puffing himself up to seem more mature and demand answers from his uncle.  
His latest letter he had nearly sent with the last ranger that had popped by for some excellent cupcakes and tea. It was addressed to Balin and had been written when Bilbo had fallen into deep thoughts about his past adventures. The letter asked for who lived, how was Erebor, how was everyone?  
The Hobbit touched his letter and sighed, it was foolish; Thorin had made it very clear he would not tolerate the burglar further. It was best if Bilbo simply settled back into life here in the shire, once and for all... 

His jaw set firmly in determination, he grabbed the drawer with all the letters, picked them up and threw them into the embers before marching back to his bed room, stopping to get a control over the need to run back and save the letters. Then the silent roar of fire sounded and his shoulders slumped before he walked into his bedroom.  
Small feet moved behind him, as silent as only a Hobbit child could.


	2. Chapter 1

“I’m off uncle!”

“Now hold on young man, where are you going? And you haven’t even had second breakfast yet!” Not that Bilbo craved second breakfasts anymore, mind you, but Frodo deserved to grow up in a somewhat normal Hobbit household.

“I say we start skipping it all together and I’m going to Bywater with Sam.” He said loudly before rushing out and then returned to close the door properly.  
Bilbo watched with fond eyes as his nephew dashed down the hill and over to the Gamgees, dragging Sam with him.  
Old Gaffer sent a disgruntled look up at Bag End and Bilbo presented a mildly apologetic smile. Gaffer would forgive him once presented with freshly baked bread with jam and some tea as a break from his gardening around Bag End. 

“Frodo, Frodo where are we going? Or more, what are we doing?” Young Sam asked while his breath came in puffs, not so used to running around as he was normally a quiet and calm child.  
“Looking for Rangers!”  
“What! But them Rangers can be dangerous!”   
Frodo just snorted “We just have to make sure they don’t step on us!” He calmed his friend as they ran past Sandyman’s Mill and over Bywater Bridge. 

 

They had to stop once Bywater came into view so Sam could catch his breath.   
“Bu-but why are we looking for rangers Fr-Frodo?” The young Hobbit looked up at Frodo from his bent position in an attempt to catch his breath.

“I’m sending a letter.” Frodo grinned down to his friend.  
“Oh! Are you inviting Mr. Gandalf over for Mr. Bilbo’s birthday? Oh, ask him to bring fireworks!” Sam’s eyes practically shone at the very thought of Gandalf’s famed fireworks. 

Frodo’s smile shrunk a bit, because although Sam was very loyal Frodo couldn't risk him blabbering about Frodo’s letter, as Gaffer might mention it to Uncle and Frodo couldn't imagine his uncle particularly pleased about what Frodo was about to do.

“…Yes I am! Uncle thinks we shouldn't nag him, but it’s been so long, you don’t think he’ll mind do you?” Frodo asked innocently.  
“I’ll get Ma to bake her meat pie for when he arrives!” because Mother Gamgee’s meat pie could evidently solve every problem the world had to offer.  
“It’s settled then!” Frodo decided and dashed off again, laughing at his friend’s groans and cries for him to wait.

The two Hobbitlings rushed into the Green Dragon, children were tolerated during day when there weren’t so many drinking Hobbits in there. The owner watched them in amusement as the two youngsters made their way towards the counter.

“So Mr. Baggins, what’ll it be?”  
“Could I get a paper? An envelope and a pen and ink?”  
“My, what an unusual request at a tavern,” He chuckled “What do you need it for, Young Master Baggins?”  
“I’m sending a letter! Are there Rangers about?”  
“There was one here just now, had a drink for the road, he just left.” The owner said and found a piece of parchment for Frodo, and an ink pen.

“Sam, go fetch him!”  
“W-what, but Mr. Frodo”  
“The fireworks Sam! The fireworks!”

Sam puffed his chest up and rushed out the door, while Frodo hunched over the paper and scrawled with very interestingly formed letters. Bilbo was teaching Frodo how to write and read, but Frodo wasn’t a master scribe yet and wouldn’t be any time soon. He looked the letter over and nodded, satisfied by the result and rolled the letter and got help from the tavern owner to tie it up.

“Thank you!” Frodo waved as he rushed out, the owner still chuckling while shaking his head. Outside, he was met by the strangest sight, Sam tugging at a Ranger’s coat and the Ranger letting himself be led with a sheepish look in his face while muttering something sounding like “Hobbits, Hobbitlings and their way too adorable faces”  
“I got him, Frodo!” Sam beamed.

“Could you deliver a letter for us, Mr. Ranger, sir?” Frodo bowed deeply as Bilbo had once taught him. The Ranger softened up at the display.  
“Who do you wish to send a letter to, little hobbit?” He asked.  
“Gandalf the Grey!”

“I can do that” the Ranger held out his hand and Frodo put his paper roll into the Ranger’s hand.  
“Thank you kindly, sir!” He bowed again. The Ranger nodded, said his good bye and started walking down the East Road again. 

“Now we’ll have fireworks!” Sam grinned   
“That we will Sam, let’s go look at the fishes in the river!”  
“Alright, race you there?” The young Hobbit asked, confident he was up to anything after dealing with a ranger, all on his own.   
“You go ahead, I left something at the Green Dragon” Frodo excused himself.   
Sam nodded and dashed off, as Frodo turned and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him and tried to catch up to the Ranger’s long strides. 

“Mr. Ranger! Mr. Ranger! There is another letter!” He shouted when close enough (and far enough away from Sam) for the Ranger to hear. Said Ranger turned and looked at the running Hobbit. Frodo breathed a bit harshly as he came to a stop in front of the Ranger.

“Could you, could you get… get this on its way?” Frodo got his request (and letter) out to the Ranger between gulps and huffs of air. The Ranger took the letter and looked at the address. 

“I can easily get it to Dale and I imagine someone there can get it to Erebor.” The Ranger looked down at Frodo.  
“Thank you! Oh right, payment…uh” Frodo searched his pockets, upon finding only some sweets in his hand he deflated. The Ranger, however, took the sweets and smiled at him.  
“This is about the price I demand. Don’t you worry, Master Hobbit, I’ll get your letter to its destination” The Ranger nodded in farewell, hiding his smile at the overjoyed little Hobbit.

“Hobbits…” he muttered again, but there was a smile on his lips. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the little Hobbit was nearly waving his arm off.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They receive a letter in Erebor

All was quiet in Erebor this particular morn. No angry Dwarven nobles, no intense petitioners, no nagging nephews and best of all; no towering sister. Thorin sunk back into his throne, enjoying the peace and quiet as he knew it would not last. Not that he really minded, well, perhaps sometimes, but not always. 

“Thorin.”

He opened his eyes, very few called him that these days and sure enough, Balin approached him, a sober look on his face. Thorin straightened up and braced himself.  
“What news, Balin?”

“From Hobbiton, Thorin” Balin held up an opened envelope. Thorin nearly jumped out of his seat but composed himself.   
“Well, what says the Hobbit?”  
“He asked which of us survived the battle…”

“He doesn’t know…?” Thorin was thrown off by this, he had given the Hobbit much thought and the more he thought about it -and his nephews and his sister pushed- the more he reached the conclusion -although still grumbling a bit for good measure- that Bilbo had been right to give the Arkenstone for several reasons. They had won the battle with much less of a loss than esteemed -thanks to the Elves actually joining this time, cue Thorin grumble- and Thorin was in no immediate danger to be swallowed by the same gold and treasure fever as his grandfather before him. 

“This, Thorin,” Balin tapped the letter for good measure, “Doesn’t sound like the first letter he has written.”  
“But no other letters have reached me!” Thorin defended himself, but Balin shook his head.  
“I am not blaming you for throwing letters away, unanswered. No, our Hobbit simply hasn’t sent any other letters.”  
“Until that one?”  
“Until this one, yes.”  
“Well, we shall answer him at once!” Thorin stood.

“Might I suggest something else, Thorin?” The old Dwarf looked at the man he had and still admired greatly.  
“What would you have us do then?” Thorin met his eyes.  
“Gather the company, go see our dear ex-burglar.” Thorin clenched his jaw.

“I can’t do that I-“  
“Nonsense Thorin…! You have a steward you can use, or better appoint your sister as temporary ruler, she is far more capable”   
“…” Unable to argue against this wisdom Thorin chose another angle.

“But would he even want to see us? I cast him away Balin”  
“And that is just why we need to go there in person, Thorin, and you will apologize in person to our burglar” Balin stressed.   
Thorin opened his mouth to retort but found no reply as a small part of him wished to go see the hobbit again, make sure he was alright and perhaps even more importantly, that he didn’t hate Thorin for his harsh and unfair words. 

“Send the word Balin…” Thorin said and tried not to grumble at the wide smile that spread over the other dwarf’s features as he bowed “At once.” and he was on his way out of the throne room. Thorin plumped down onto his throne, any minute now… any minute…

“Uncle! Uncle, is it true!?!”   
And there it was. Thorin sighed heavily as the door to the throne room slammed open. 

-

A ranger walked into the halls of Edoras, heaving a sigh in relief upon seeing the Grey Wizard seated next to the King. The King of Rohan looked up at this new arrival. 

“What brings a ranger so far to the East?”  
“Forgive me, Lord of Rohan, but I promised a young Hobbit to make a delivery to Gandalf the Grey.” The wizard’s eyes twinkled with amusement. The Ranger walked up to him and handed him the rolled up letter. The wizard nodded and the Ranger bowed once more and made to walk out.

“Come now, you must be hungry, have a seat and feast with us.” The King offered.  
“You are most gracious, my Lord.” The Ranger smiled and accepted.

Gandalf squinted at the note that was clearly not written by a trained hand.

“Gandalf” was written with big shaky letters.   
“Ples com to Bilbo’s birtday, bring faierworks”  
“Frodo” the only thing written somewhat decently. 

The wizard smiled fondly down at the letter and rolled it up again before putting it back into his pocket.   
“Are you returning soon, Mister Ranger?” He inquired.  
“Yes, Master Gandalf, I leave come morning.”  
“Do you mind if I tag along and make a few extra stops?”  
The Ranger only shook his head, sometimes company could be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all kindly for the kudos and comments! They do wonders for my inspiration and keeps the chapters coming quicker. I said to myelf I would update when this thing reached a 1000 hits (when it was around 700 (Still can't wrap my head around that... ^^; ) ) and that happened a lot soonerthan expected, so here it is ^^;  
> hope you like it!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Shire!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked over the chapters and decided chapter 2 was WAY too short, so have chapter 3.  
> Also, I have a question for you, I'll post it at the end.

With the established trading routes between Erebor and Ered Luin, the journey West was a much easier one than their journey to Erebor had been all those years ago. Thorin and company moved forward at a very decent pace, but perhaps this was because they weren’t all 13 this time around. Both Bombur and Glóin had stayed behind with their wives and children, hoping Bilbo could be persuaded to at least come and visit sometime soon. Nori would catch up to them as he had business to attend to along the trade route before he could join the company. The remaining company traveled on with easy laughter and cheer, and although no one put words to it, the feeling of anxiety was around them all when talk stilled.

The cheer and laughter died down more and more the closer they came to the Shire’s borders. Even Ori, who had been more than delighted to be able to travel through the flaming colors that came with autumn, stopped drawing and writing as the others grew quiet. Would the Hobbit even acknowledge them? No words of thanks had been given after the battle, no reassurances had been said, and Bilbo had just been quietly turned away for helping them survive.

The very thought of such a gruesome act being done towards their friend and hero made the very air taste bitter to the Dwarves and their faces would darken with shame for proving the peoples of Middle-earth right about the gold fever and greed present in Dwarves.  
It was only midday when they reached the village of Bree, but the company found they were unable to continue just yet and took rooms at a reasonable inn. No one wanted to admit to be building courage to face their ex-burglar. Trust that despite everything, the stubbornness of Dwarves would prevail.

They were dining in silence, despite the noisy dining hall, when a familiar voice poked through their silence.  
“Well now, I knew something was up when I heard talk of a rather large company of Dwarves that didn't seem to be merchants.”  
“Gandalf…!” Kíli had turned around swiftly, grinning that grin of his that nearly consumed the most of his face.  
“It is good to see you, my friends. What brings you here, to rectify the foolish mistakes of the past, I hope…?” It may have been phrased as a question, though it might just as well have been an order.

“That is our hope; we received a letter from Bilbo.” Balin spoke up.  
“From Bilbo, you say?” There was that little, knowing smile that sometimes would tick off the king and ex-burglar simultaneously.  
“Sate an old man’s curiosity, was the letter riddled with strange errors?”  
“Strange errors…? Why, it was written very properly and in neat hand writing.” Balin seemed a little baffled by the question and Thorin furrowed his brows at the Wizard.

“Hm, I see.” There was mirth in those wise eyes. The man seated himself amongst the Dwarves and ordered a bit of red wine for himself, the barkeep nodding in acknowledgement and recognition.

“Well then this will surely be a splendid birthday party, perhaps the best one yet!” Gandalf mused after taking a sip of his wine.  
“Birthday…? Whose birthday…?” Several voices sounded in unison.

“Well Bilbo’s, of course!” Gandalf said as if this was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world. The Dwarves gaped at him, but Gandalf just continued as if nothing was out of the norm.

“I expect quite the party, Hobbits always were such good hosts, and with this warm weather I expect it will be by the old party tree. Ah, the food will be most exquisite and the younger will be quite taken with my fireworks, I am certain!” the Wizard hummed to himself.  
“Party…?” Kíli squawked.

“Ah yes, with music and songs, I expect.” Gandalf smiled to the young dwarf.  
“Music and songs…” Fíli echoed, sounding dumbfounded.  
“Gifts… we have none.” Bofur pointed out very slowly. A fist to the table surface jerked them all out of their numb state.  
“All of you, by the time we reach Hobbiton by tomorrow I expect you to have gifts for our- for the Hobbit.” Thorin rumbled and then glanced up at the Wizard who had narrowed his eyes at the king.  
“For Bilbo.” he quickly added, and the Wizard smiled pleasantly again.

Bilbo didn’t mind letting Frodo’s closer friends stay over from time to time, no he quite enjoyed it actually. Small Hobbits had habit of livening things up, and always proved excellent listeners for his stories. Though having Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee (even if he was the quiet one of the lot) and Frodo Baggins under his roof for several days, in addition to all the four boys being very excited about the party to come, could be very draining. Bilbo didn’t know where they were half of them time, and felt like he was chasing Hobbitlings at every waking hour. Now, normally Bilbo wouldn’t have to stalk the children around, unless said children were the four sticking to each other like they were glued there. The soon 60 years-old Hobbit sighed and slumped into his armchair. The boys had gone to the forest; at least there they wouldn’t get in trouble for trying to burgle any farmers of their delicious mushrooms or apples. Bilbo smiled softly to himself, the boys were no doubt searching for the fairies Bilbo had sworn hid within.

Frodo was currently studying a flowery bush very intently, they were pretty flowers, fairies liked flowers right? How big were fairies supposed to be anyway? He had to ask Uncle when he got home. He lifted his head and saw Pippin and Merry not too far away, the lazy troublemakers had gone from hunting fairies, to lounging around in the grass, whispering and giggling to each other. Frodo rolled his eyes in a good, he hoped, impersonation of Uncle Bilbo. He turned his blue eyes to Sam, dear Sam would never abandon him like that- Frodo gaped in disbelief as Sam was more intent on studying the various flowers around him than look for fairies. The Hobbitling huffed in annoyance and was about to call for his friends’ attention, when a foreign voice cut through the quiet in the forest.

“Nori…!” A voice boomed “About time you joined you scoundrel, I hope you haven’t done anything that I would disapprove of!”  
“Of course not, Mister Dwalin…” A sly voice replied, and then there were chuckles – and one or two angry rumbles – quite many chuckles by the sound of it. None of the Hobbitlings had to say a word; they all crawled forward, towards the road, quietly. They hid in bushes, staring with wide eyes at the approaching group of….group of what exactly? Taller than Hobbits and riding on ponies! Oh, but they looked scary. Downright frightening! Frodo could feel his dear friend Sam tremble next to him, and he patted his arm gently to try and calm him. When really, Frodo was sure his own heart would thump out of his very chest any moment!

Merry tugged at his sleeve, wordlessly motioning for them to draw back from the group that just got closer and closer. Silently, they crept backwards through the thankfully thick bushes, and it was going so well too, until Sam broke something. A very inconvenient, and way too loud, twig snapped under Sam’s knee and the Hobbitlings froze, and then held their breaths as the company halted, clearly having heard the sound.

“Did you hear that…?” A voice asked quietly.  
“Aye, something moved.” Another voice replied.  
“Come now, it was probably nothing.” A deeper voice, Frodo had the feeling he had heard this voice before, but with his head addled with fear and excitement all the same; the poor young Hobbit couldn’t place the voice.

“Can’t be too careful...” This voice was perhaps even deeper, and held more authority than even Lobelia Sackville-Baggins could muster.  
There came sounds of two pairs of heavy boots hitting the ground and gradually coming closer to the now panicking Hobbitlings.

“We topple them!” Merry hissed lowly.  
“What, have you seen how massive they are!?” Pippin squeaked by his side, having gotten a good view of the strangers.  
“We have to, Pip, we topple and run!”  
“We have no choice.” Frodo agreed.  
“On my count…”

“One…” The bushes rustled as the two came closer.

“Two…” Their boots now visible to the Hobbits, and they tensed further.

“Three…” The steps halted just in front of them, clearly having caught sight of the completely still youngster.  
“FOR THE SHIRE…!” It was Pippin who roared with his tiny voice and launched himself at one pair of legs, Merry leapt at the other. There were yells of shock from the two strangers, who fell to the ground easily due to being taken at a disadvantage.  
“Fíli, Kíli!” The authoritative voice from before yelled in alarm as the two disappeared from sight for a moment before getting up, confusion evident in their faces.

The Hobbitlings sprinted forward, slipped under the ponies while shouting at each other to run. Behind them, the deep and rich voice was laughing heartily and they briefly heard a shriek from, what was most likely one of the toppled strangers.  
“What in the name of Mahal was that?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a wonder, about putting more parings into this.  
> I'd appreciate it if you could voice your opinions about this on my Tumblr (Non-Contra-Veum), where I also will be putting out random scribbles from this fic (that won't make it onto AO3), ideas (which you then could add to ;) ) and so forth.  
> Hope I'll be seeing you there! ^^


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "protect Bilbo...!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, you might have guessed it by now, but this fic will be a very slow build, in the way of romantics at least.  
> In other news, I think I have (with the help from you guys on Tumblr :'D ) Decided on at least one other pairing ^^

“Uncle, Uncle!” Frodo, followed by his three companions, rushed up the hill and nearly knocked over a Hobbit- miss who shook her fist at them.

Bilbo was sitting on the bench in his front garden, enjoying a little smoke, when the ruckus made its way to Bag End. He sat up a little straighter at the alarm in his nephew’s voice, but relaxed as his eyes swiftly counted four, seemingly healthy Hobbitlings.

“Uncle, the Shire is in danger!” Frodo cried as all four youngsters barreled into Bilbo’s knees.  
“In danger you say?” Bilbo decided to humor the young ones, patting their heads.  
“A big group is coming up the East Road!” Merry said hastily.  
“Of Big Folk…!” Pippin chimed in.  
“No, Pippin. They weren’t Big Folk, bigger than us maybe, but not THAT big” Merry reprimanded. Bilbo chuckled quietly to himself.

“They’re coming up the East Road, Uncle!” Frodo ignored the bickering Merry and Pippin.  
“Oh my, you best protect the Shire then boys. I’ll go and find my old sword.” Bilbo hummed and got up.  
“But we’re just small Hobbits!” Sam finally piped up.  
“Samwise Gamgee, there is way more to Hobbits than meets the eye. Never forget that! Now pick up some sticks and defend the Shire.” Bilbo said sternly, but with mirth in his eyes as he went inside to gets some pie and lemonade for the boys.  
Said boys looked at each other as Frodo’s uncle went into his home, not looking troubled at all.

“We must protect the Shire.”  
“Maybe just Bag End?” Frodo suggested and the other boys nodded vigorously. They scattered and found their “weapons” before hiding in the surrounding bushes, holding their breaths as the company made themselves visible.

“They’re headed to Bag End!” Frodo whispered furiously.  
“Oh, we never should have looked for fairies!” Sam moaned in fear, as he had his eyes on some of the bulkier strangers.  
“Quiet, Sam!” Merry hissed from another bush.  
“Wait, who is the one in the back?” Pippin stretched a little to get a better look.  
“Get down, Pippin!” 

There was a sudden crash behind them that had the tense Hobbitlings so startled they jumped out of their hiding places and turned around. Bilbo had his eyes frozen at the approaching company, the tray filled with pie and lemonade on the ground, spoiled and broken. His lips were moving, but no sound came from them.  
“Uncle…!” Frodo rushed up to his Uncle’s side, holding the stick up defensively, his friends soon joining him.

And then Bilbo sprinted, jumping over the fence, down the hill, over another fence, nearly crashing into the Hobbit-miss from before (who was so perplexed by the grown, supposedly Gentle-Hobbit, that she forgot to shake her fist) and didn’t stop before he stood in front of the now halted company.

The Hobbitlings watched, perplexed at the show, as Bilbo gasped for breath in front of the strangers. Then the silence was broken by excited shouts and two figures rushing forward, ahead of everyone else, and grabbing Bilbo.  
The Hobbitlings didn’t even hesitate then, they rushed forward with, hopefully, fearsome battle cries.  
The company, and most likely half of Hobbiton, stopped to eye the noise that approached in great, for Hobbitlings at least, speed.

“For Bilbo…!”  
“Let go of him, you…Big People!”  
“They’re NOT Big People, Pippin!”  
“Never should have looked for fairies…”  
And four little Hobbits crashed into Fili and Kili, toppling them once more. Bilbo was just barley dragged into safety by Bofur.

“Boys…”  
“You won’t harm Uncle Bilbo…!”  
“Boys...!”

The assault halted as the youngsters finally caught on to Bilbo’s voice, they turned around slowly.  
“This is hardly good manners, don’t you think?” Bilbo looked at them sternly.  
“But Uncle-“  
“No, Frodo, these will be our honored guests, and I won’t have you tackling them to the ground.” Bilbo raised his voice slightly.  
“Yes, Bilbo… We’re sorry.” Four small heads bowed down.  
“So they’re Hobbits?” Kili, who had gotten up and past the shock of being attacked (a second time), studied the small Hobbits.  
“Oh they’re cute, I want one!” He declared and grabbed Frodo, hugging the squeaking Hobbitling to the other Hobbitlings horror, and the company’s amusement. 

Bilbo showed them a field they could let their ponies onto and went ahead to Bag End to prepare a little meal (feast) for the dwarves, Hobbitlings and Gandalf.  
In the quiet of his smial though – alone, as the Hobbitlings had decided to hang onto the Dwarves, and more importantly, Gandalf- Bilbo had time to collect his thoughts.  
Why were the Dwarves here now? Why had they come? They had looked relieved to see him, genuinely happy, and the feeling was mutual. But Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder, yet to see them all alive and well was more than enough to bring a few tears to the Hobbit’s eyes.

He sniffled and brought the back of his hand up to dry them away, scoffing at his own foolishness. He didn’t even hear the steps behind him until a deep voice cleared itself. He spun around, facing the King under the Mountain.

“Thorin…” He breathed.  
“Bilbo, I have come to extend official apologies for certain behavior.” Thorin said stiffly and so very correctly, it actually irked the formerly proper Hobbit.  
“Oh yes, this should be good, you finally realized your pigheadedness and realized I actually saved you lot at the battle?” Bilbo crossed his arms and leant back against the counter, secretly enjoying the look of disbelief that crossed the King’s face.

“Do you have ANY idea how worried, no, mad I was at you?” The joke slipped into being serious and Bilbo straightened.  
“And after ALL I did you just CAST me away like I was nothing, like I had done you a greater ill than Smaug ever could have done!” Bilbo’s voice was rising, 9 years’ worth of worry and pain.  
“I took the Arkenstone and gave it to Thranduil, to gain his help, and you took my friends and…and the rest doesn’t matter, but for what? Payback…?” Bilbo took a few steps closer to the frozen King.  
“No, I-“

Bilbo didn’t let him speak.  
“I worried, I feared, no word ever came, no sign! I didn’t know who was alive and who was not,” Bilbo stopped just in front of Thorin, bending his head a little so he still could meet the King’s eyes.  
“I’m sorry-“  
“And I’ve never been more ready to forgive you, as I am now.” Bilbo breathed, anger vented and relief finally filling him upon finding his worries false. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around Thorin, resting his head against the man’s shoulder and just held.

To say that Thorin was a bit bewildered would have been an understatement, but slowly he raised his own arms and wrapped them around the Hobbit’s lithe form.  
“Thank you…” He said quietly. A small, but genuine smile began stretching over his lips as he pulled back to look down at the Hobbit who was smiling through his tears.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (very small) treat for you, hope you like it !!

“Since when did Hobbits become so fierce anyways?” Bofur asked upon entering Bilbo’s home, Pippin close behind the Dwarf. Bilbo had to chuckle at the sight of young Pippin with Bofur’s hat on, the hat so big that all you could see of the Hobbitling's face was his goofy smile.

“Hobbitlings aren’t required to be all prim and proper until they reach their tweens,” Bilbo explained as he went back into the kitchen to continue his work there. Thorin had seated himself at the end of the dining table. A lot of chatter and noise signalized the entry of the other Dwarves; they took seats by the table while Bilbo whipped up food and had the boys place the dishes on the table.

“So what brings you all here?” Bilbo said as he placed the last dish down on the table, about to take a seat as he looked at the dwarves. He was met with a lot of stares.  
“What…?” He glanced at them all before finally settling at looking at Thorin, well aware of four pairs of Hobbitling eyes watching on intently.

“We came to apologize.” Thorin said firmly.  
“What…but, surely not just that?” Bilbo let his eyes go over the Dwarves again, most met his eyes with determination.  
“Well, we did hear rumors of a birthday party…” Fíli said with hopeful eyes.  
“Of course, but…why now...?” Bilbo sat down slowly, eyeing them all still.  
“But laddie, you were the one who sent the letter.” Balin spoke up.  
“Letter…? I haven’t sent any letters.” Bilbo’s eyes found Gandalf’s cheerful ones.

“Well, I received an invitation, though I do believe your nephew has to work his penmanship a bit more.” The Wizard chuckled and handed Bilbo the rolled up note. A young Hobbit-lad tried to slip past his uncle, who simply grabbed him by the ear as he tried to pass without taking his eyes of the note.  
“Frodo Baggins…” Bilbo said lowly and it was evident to all how the Hobbitling was doing his best to shrink away.

“Did you take one of my letters and send them with a Ranger, young man?”  
“…yes, Uncle…” Frodo hung his head and then snapped right to attention again as his uncle began laughing heartily. He was grabbed and put onto his uncle’s lap, being hugged by the older Hobbit.

“Thank you, dear boy, thank you.” Frodo possibly beamed at the words and snuggled up to his uncle, gaining small chuckles from around the table.  
“But no more stealing, I won’t have you become like a Sackville-Baggins, stuffing their noses into business that really isn’t theirs to stuff their noses in. Am I clear?” Bilbo looked at the boy, who in turn nodded with such a serious expression it called for another round of chuckles around the table.

 

The little feast continued into evening and later, into the night. The four Hobbitlings had long since gone to sleep after first falling asleep on a Dwarf each. Frodo was determined to have Thorin like him, and the poor lad run around all the time, making sure Thorin didn’t really have to do anything. Finally Thorin had caught on and had carefully taken the Hobbitling onto his lap, as if the precious little creature could break, and told him stories of his vast and magnificent home.

Pippin continued to adore Bofur, and then Bifur, and asked with huge eyes if he could, perhaps, touch that axe that was permanently stuck in the older Dwarf’s head. When permission was given, well… Bilbo thought he had never seen such a look of slightly disturbed awe before.

Merry insisted on trying to climb Dwalin’s shoulders, only to be lifted away (preferably upside-down) by the royal siblings, laughing and complaining in the same breath.  
Sam had seated himself close to Balin and the, somewhat, quieter Ori. Listening intently to whatever the older Dwarf was saying, occasionally looking at things in the younger’s leather bound book.

Bilbo didn’t have the heart to send them to bed, thus the current situation where Pippin was sleeping soundly in Bifur’s lap and said Dwarf just stared ahead with that blank expression of his. Merry was half hanging onto Dwalin’s shoulders, slobbering away. And the warrior didn’t look like he minded much. Sam was dozing against Ori’s shoulder. And Frodo, dear, sweet Frodo, looked very comfortable in the king’s lap, using the man’s firm chest as if it was the softest of pillows.

The Dwarves helped him in getting them to bed quietly, before settling in the cozy living room again, each of them nursing a mug of ale, tea or wine.  
“They are lovely boys.” Balin commented as everyone had settled. A round of agreeing sounds followed.  
“A bit too much sometimes, but that is what you should expect from pairing up Tooks with Brandybucks and so on.” Bilbo hummed as he threw another log onto the fire.

“So, is there an inn nearby where we can-“  
“Nonsense…! You lot are staying here.”   
“But my dear Hobbit, we do not wish to impose or-“  
“You lot…are staying…here.” Bilbo’s eyes narrowed.

“Right, where do you wish to put us, Master Hobbit?” Kíli quickly asked before Thorin could join in on the brewing discussion.  
“Oh, here and there, I’ll sleep in the boy’s room, so if you don’t mind two of you can share that bed.” Fíli and Kíli instantly rose their arms up.

“Then there is the guest room with a double bed two of you can share.” Bilbo continued and silently noted the quiet nod between Dwalin and Balin.  
“Then there is the guest room with the human sized bed that I added myself some years back.” Gandalf nodded, gratefully, at this.  
“Same room also contains a good sized couch for one who doesn’t mind.”  
“I don’t mind.” Ori piped up.

“And I can take out a mattress in front of the hearth here, space for two I guess.”  
“Me and Bifur will take that, lad” Bofur smiled at him.

“And we can put Merry in Pippin’s bed to get another single bed.”  
“Óin will take it.” Kíli grinned as the old dwarf snapped to attention at the faint mention of his name, looking around.

“Hm…well, there is the couch in here, and we can probably fit another mattress in here as well.”  
“I’ll take the couch, Nori, you take the mattress.” Dori stressed, Nori simply mimicked his brother quietly while grimacing.  
“And that leaves…Thorin.” Bilbo looked at said Dwarf and the Dwarf met his eyes calmly.

“Well…The bed I’m thinking off is a double, it’s the one I intend to sleep in…so, well…if you don’t mind, you could...” Bilbo trailed of, feeling his face heat up for some reason.  
“I don’t mind.” Thorin reassured.

 

So that was how Bilbo Baggins ended up in a bed with Thorin Oakenshield, a little Hobbitling sleeping quite snugly between them. Bilbo had managed to swallow what he at least thought was embarrassment, but why he felt like this he could not fathom.

“Bilbo…” Thorin said just as the Hobbit was slipping into sleep.  
“Yes…?” The reply sounded every bit of drowsy as he felt.  
“Thank you…”  
“For what?”  
“For forgiving.”

Bilbo smiled sleepily, eyes closing again.  
“No, thank you.” He murmured before finally drifting off and therefore didn’t feel the calloused fingers that brushed against his forehead softly; neither did he hear the voice that quietly whispered:

“I will always forgive you, my Burglar…”


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings in Hobbiton

It wasn’t often that Bilbo Baggins was a restful sleeper, not any more that was. After the adventure, he had taken up the habit of wiggling around while sleeping, a way to keep warm during cold nights and to avoid waking up with stiff limbs and creaky joints.  
Frodo had grown accustomed to this wiggling and slept through it easily, even if he did nuzzle more into Thorin than Bilbo, but Thorin awoke many times by the subtle movements.

Finally, with an annoyed huff, he moved the Hobbitling atop of him before dragging the fitful Hobbit against himself. It was like someone pushed a button, or pulled a string, because the movements instantly ceased and the Hobbit lay pliant in his arms, pushing his nose against Thorin’s undershirt and sigh contently at the warmth. The Dwarf watched as the Hobbit continued to sleep, Frodo wiggled a bit on his spot on top of Thorin, but settled with a small yawn.  
The King under the Mountain had to admit that this… This was nice, very nice actually. He smiled to himself before closing his eyes once more. He would awake and untangle so not to distress the Hobbit in the morning.

 

Bilbo was so comfortable when first light seeped through the windows, the birds’ chirping sounded lovely and bees had begun buzzing into their daily routines. He sighed contently and pushed a bit further into that nice warmth… since when did Frodo get so big? The Hobbit’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes still closed, and his hands began touching this mass of heat in front of him. The hard, yet oddly soft, chest was falling and rising simultaneously in easy sleep, every now and then a faint rumble of a snore could be more sensed than heard within. Arms…big arms, by the feel of it one of said arms were around Bilbo and Bilbo knew for a fact that Frodo did not have such arms as this! His searching hand went higher, until it reached soft, very long hair. Alright, no, this was not Hobbit hair. Finally Bilbo opened his eyes.

Oh my… He looked right up at a sleeping Thorin, with one arm around the sleeping Frodo who lay splayed on top of the King’s chest. Thorin’s other arm was slung around Bilbo, holding him close. The Hobbit could feel his face heat up till it was almost unbearable and he wiggled out of the King’s hold. He rolled out of the bed and landed softly on the floor, his head instantly perking up to see if Thorin had awoken. The King and the Hobbitling simply continued to snooze and Bilbo crawled out of the room quickly.  
Once in the hall he gathered himself and got up from the floor, still blushing, but not nearly as much as before. He cleared his throat before remembering his house was filled with sleeping Dwarves and cast a nervous glance about to make sure he hadn’t awaken anyone.  
He tiptoed over to the living room and peeked inside. All the Dwarves were sleeping peacefully, mighty roars that might perhaps pass for Dwarven snores passing out from their half open mouths. Though Nori had a permanent frown on his face as he slept, Dori’s hand hanging down and onto the younger’s face.

Bilbo smiled gently before tiptoeing over to the Human guest room, opening the door carefully and wrinkled his nose at the slight squeak from the hinges. Within, the Wizard slept on his back, hands folded neatly over his chest, the sound coming from him rivaling the Dwarves. Ori had apparently thought the same somewhere during the night as the Dwarf’s head was placed between two pillows to block some of the sound. 

The Hobbit closed the door and padded quietly over to the last guest room, peeking in to make sure Dwalin and Balin was sleeping still. He should have taken the time to sketch this, he noted, as Dwalin had his arms flung out on the bed. The bald Dwarf was snoring and didn’t seem to mind that his left arm was in a weird position from being slung across Balin who was lying on his side.

In Bilbo’s own room, Bilbo had to stop as a blush made it to his cheeks again. There were two half naked Dwarves in his bed that looked more like lovers than brothers. With Kíli clinging to his brother’s waist, nose pressed against the blonde dwarf’s spine. The Hobbit shook his head and closed the door quickly.

He couldn’t just start clanking in the kitchen, he decided, so he dressed properly and headed out towards the market. Sure enough, the market was buzzing with life. It was easy to see that it was Bilbo Baggins’ birthday, as people took the time to smile pleasantly and maybe even extended a “Happy Birthday, Mr. Baggins.”  
It was almost enough to make Bilbo think of how and who he had been before his adventures. He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly, to himself before shaking the thought off. He headed to the stall which had freshly baked loaves, no doubt he wouldn’t have time to make them himself before the Dwarves got up.  
Just as he paid the very much smiling Hobbit, who had just sold nearly all of his freshly baked loaves to Master Bagging, Bilbo’s keen ear picked up a familiar sound and began twitching.

“Ehem, could you hold on a moment, my good man?” Bilbo said quickly and took the raised eyebrows as a good enough answer. Swiftly, and just as if he was a tween still, Bilbo jumped behind the counter of the now startled Hobbit. He made himself small and invisible as he could, pulling his coat up for good measure. Sure enough, the familiar bemoaning of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins could be heard as she approached the stalls. The merchant-Hobbit looked down at him, faint understanding in his eyes.

“Why, it is an outrage! Sending a letter, when we live so close by! He should come himself if he wants my company on that celebration, yes he should!” She complained to all who wanted, and also those who didn’t want, to hear.  
“I swear that relative of mine, huff, never was quite right. My, oh my, and he only got WORSE after that, huh, adventure!” She scoffed.  
“Never inviting his own FLESH and BLOOD over to tea, instead having the company of Dwarves and Wizards over to Bag End, that really shouldn’t belong to such a scandalous Hobbit, my word.”

“Dwarves, you say?” Curse the ever-lasting curiosity in Hobbits.  
“Aye, my Lotho saw them, just yesterday it was. Sauntering over to Bag End and hasn’t come out yet.”  
Was his relative spying on him? Bilbo silently fumed, though he still kept himself hidden.  
Murmurs began rising.

“Excuse me…?” A familiar voice said through the crowd and all noise halted, instead there were quiet gasps.  
“Has anyone seen Bilbo Baggins, we seem to have lost him?” The thick accent that belonged to Bofur continued on. The murmuring began again and Bilbo thumped his head softly against the ground, before suddenly standing up straight next to the still bewildered Hobbit.

“Aha, found it, haha, can’t go anywhere without that. Bofur!” Bilbo waved at the Dwarf. “You up already? Marvelous, do be a dear and help me carry this back home, would you? Marvelous.” He fidgeted only slightly as he tried to avoid looking at the other Hobbits.  
“Hum, ehem, let’s be off then.” He said, a little too loud, before marching off while carrying both bags with fresh bread, forgetting to offer Bofur one of the bags in his hurry to escape nosy Hobbits.

“Bilbo, are you alright?” Bofur caught up with him.  
“Blast and curse those bloody, nosy…Sackville-Bagginses…!” Bilbo hissed.  
“Laddie, hey, what’s up?”  
Bilbo just muttered darkly about Lobelia, and her good-for-nothing husband Lotho, all the way up to Bag End.

“I fear our Hobbit has lost it.” Bofur muttered to Balin, who had also gotten up, and winced as Bilbo chopped away furiously at the poor, innocent mushrooms.  
“What happened then?” Balin looked to Bofur, who simply shrugged. Bilbo gave a loud sigh and his shoulders sagged somewhat.  
“Sorry, I just, I haven’t been the most respected of Hobbits since I came back from the journey. And that’s alright with me!” He quickly added when seeing Balin and Bofur’s crestfallen looks.

“But I find it incredibly annoying and incredibly RUDE when all of them absolutely insist on stuffing their noses into MY business. Especially the Sackville-Bagginses, good-for-nothing, think-they-know-better clot poles. That will do their best at stealing your silver and then, have the indecency to claim that such scandalous Hobbits shouldn’t have such FINE and PROPER silver and china, hah!” Bilbo ranted as more Dwarves had joined to watch the hissing and spitting Bilbo, wincing every time (in unison) as Bilbo did violent chops at different kinds of food.

Ori, the latest addition to the gawking Dwarves, reminded himself that he had to put this down as the most violent breakfast-making ever to go down in history.  
“Oh, if only I wouldn’t feel bad afterwards, I would have stabbed Lobelia in her rather wide sitting compartment and-“

“Uncle Bilbo…” A tired voice sounded and Bilbo whipped around to be greeted by a sleepy, little Hobbit who was rubbing one eye with the back of his hand at the same time looking at his uncle.  
“Can we have pancakes as well this morning…?” Frodo asked, oblivious to his uncle’s previous rant. “Please…?” He seemed to remember, giving Bilbo the best smile he could muster in his sleepy state.

“Why…Why of course Frodo, my boy…!” Bilbo was over by Frodo in the blink of an eye, lifting the boy while smiling broadly from ear to ear.  
“Syrup too?”  
“Syrup too.” Bilbo reassured and patted his sleepy nephew. The Dwarves noted this sudden change down in their memories carefully before slinking into the background once more.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts for everyone!

The rest of the day was terribly busy for Bilbo, who had to run around and do final arrangements for his birthday party. The Dwarves were happy enough though, playing with the Hobbitlings or simply relaxing while enjoying Hobbiton at its finest. They had all taken to wave excitedly at passing Hobbits and nearly giggle like maidens when the Hobbits displayed different levels of being flustered and hurried past.

They had all prepared their gifts for the Hobbit and really couldn't wait for his reaction when he would receive them. They were all personal and held some meaning to both (hopefully) giver and receiver. When the youngsters (including Fíli and Kíli, and Dwalin but he wouldn’t admit that) caught sight of the magnificent cake being carried into one of the party tents, they barely managed to contain themselves and had to be coaxed into playing Dragon Hoard by Bofur.

“I’ve never heard of the game…” complained Merry, but tagged along anyway.  
“But we can teach you, first of someone needs to be the dragon.” Bofur explained and the Hobbitlings looked at each other while fidgeting.

“Alright, Dwalin will be the dragon!” Bofur declared.  
“What?!”

“Now, the point with the game is this, listen up boys, we are first going to gather pebbles and twigs.” The boys hurriedly carried out their orders, returning with pebbles of different colors, twigs and even some apples.

“Great!” The toymaker praised them and put all the little treasures into a small pile.  
“Now, this is the hoard.” He pointed at the pile, “And Dwalin is the dragon that has gathered this hoard.”  
Dwalin grunted.  
“Just like that, yeah!” Bofur cheered and got an undignified look from the warrior.

“Now, Dwalin is going to close his eyes and counts to 40, you then find yourself a hiding place that will also serve as your base. The point of the game is to sneak around the dragon and take the treasure for yourself without being caught and you bring the treasure back to your own base.” The Hobbitlings nodded eagerly once they understood.  
“Ah, but remember you can only carry one thing at a time! So if Frodo has managed to sneak by the searching dragon, he only gets to take one thing from the hoard and bring it back to his base.”

“What if we DO get caught?” Pippin piped up.  
“Does Dwalin get to eat us then?” Sam’s eyes were huge. The warrior only huffed in response.  
“No, lad, no.” Bofur chuckled along with the rest of the Dwarves that had gathered to enjoy the spectacle before them.  
“If he catches you, he brings you to the hoard and the only one who can set you free is one of the players and if you do set someone free, none of you can take any pieces of treasures with you, you have to get away first and come back later. If two people are caught, you can only free one at a time.”  
“So, we win when the dragon has no treasure or captives left?” Merry asked quickly.  
“Exactly, and the one with the most treasure wins!” The boys grinned at this and were eager to start.  
“Wait, what if the dragon finds our base?” Frodo looked up at Bofur with big, blue eyes.

“Well then lad, you have to find a new one and everyone can come and take from your hoard, included the dragon, but only one piece at a time!” Frodo then nodded and with all the rules repeated once more just to be sure, the Hobbitlings scurried off.  
“I refused to do this.” Dwalin muttered.  
“Come now Dwalin, my friend, it is only a bit of fun.” Thorin chuckled and the warrior sighed and began to count. 

 

The party started at dusk, and suddenly the field by the Party Tree was filled with Hobbits. It happened so fast the Dwarves didn’t even see them coming, as they were just suddenly separated by a sea of Hobbits. They did their best to nod politely, or even greet the Hobbits who all seemed much friendlier with the promise of a great party before them.

After a while, some even dared to converse with the Dwarves, which they gladly encouraged. Fíli and Kíli quickly became favorites to the young ones as they ran around on the party field and made it a game to be avoiding Hobbits, stools, benches and tents. Occasionally the Hobbitlings (and princelings) would stop and demand fireworks from Gandalf.  
Music soon played and Hobbit songs were sung highly, and perhaps a bit off tune, and the Dwarves found that Hobbit parties were just as enjoyable as any Dwarven party. Some of them even thought this was better and told it to the delighted, and very proud, Hobbits.

The only downside was they never managed to catch Bilbo to give him their gifts; as Bilbo was always greeting someone, conversing with others, having a sip of ale, then darting off to greet new guests. They could also not understand why the Hobbits around them were suddenly holding out cutlery and crockery to each other, nodding in agreement while admiring them. Then again, Hobbits would always be a bit odd to them.

Ori, who probably looked like the least dangerous of the Dwarves, was even asked up to dance by the tween Hobbits. He was stutteringly dragged along to the great amusement of Nori and Óin, who simply shrugged their shoulders when Dori came looking for the youngest. They both figured the oldest brother would get a fit or something if he thought for even a minute that his baby brother might get a crush on a young Hobbit lass or lad.

Dwalin spied Bilbo sitting down on a mostly empty table and managed to catch Kíli by his scruff as the Dwarf ran past. The message was soon spread to all of the Dwarves, who excused themselves from their current companies and went to join their Hobbit before he was again in the center of attention.

“Bilbo, we’ve hardly seen the tails of you all evening!” Bofur said loudly as he sat next down to the currently resting Hobbit.  
“I’m the host! I need to make sure my guest are having a nice time and feel appreciated for coming.”  
“Yes, but there are so many of them!” Kíli exclaimed, but Bilbo just smiled and brought the mug of ale to his lips again.  
“With you buzzing about, we haven’t had time to give you our gifts!” Fíli said loudly, Bilbo choked on his ale and the brown liquid spurted out by the sides of the mug. The Hobbits closest to the Dwarves and celebrating Hobbit grew quiet.

“I’ll start!” Bofur grinned widely and took out a small box and handed it to Bilbo.  
“From me and Bifur, happy birthday, Bilbo.” Bilbo nodded and tried to answer the Dwarf’s smile, though the Hobbit’s smile seemed more amused by now. He opened the box and inside was beautiful wooden carving of the dragon Smaug.

“It’s lovely, thank you Bofur, Bifur.” Bilbo smiled genuinely at the two Dwarves.  
“Here, laddie.” Balin’s gift was also concealed in a little, but much flatter box. Bilbo opened it, only to reveal a set of finely made pens and ink of the best quality. He thanked the white haired Dwarf vigorously before getting another gift pushed at him from an excited Kíli.  
“It’s from Dwalin!” The young Dwarf exclaimed, while said warrior simply grunted.

A small, ornate axe showed itself to Bilbo who had to give a startled laugh. “Thank you, friend, but I doubt this will get to see much action, though always nice to have.”  
“If I see you chop wood with that, Hobbit, so Mahal help me…” Dwalin warned, at which the Hobbit laughed heartily. Hobbits around them had begun murmuring quietly amongst themselves.

His next gift was from Nori, a big, leather bound book with a golden runes printed at the front.  
“It says ‘Burglar’” Nori explained.  
“That better have been acquired legally, Nori.” Dwalin warned lowly, making a few, curious Hobbits jump back from where they were basically leaning over the table by now. Nori just gave the warrior Dwarf a rude gesture which made the proper Hobbit-ladies gasp.

From Dori he got a bottle of fine, red wine from Erebor, which Gandalf sent longing looks after. From Ori he received blue mittens, knitted by the Dwarf in question. Fíli could inform Bilbo that the young scribe had even been knitting while riding the pony, which caused Ori to sputtered and blush.  
From dear, old Óin he got a rather heavy book on herbs and their uses. He thanked the Dwarf loudly and clearly, making more Hobbits aware of the rather strange situation unfolding itself by the host.

Fíli and Kíli finally felt the time was right to push their gift onto the Hobbit.  
Inside their little box were a finely carved bead and a leather necklace with a beautifully smoothed stone at the end. Some Dwarves watched a little tensely then, but relaxed again as Fíli and Kíli told Bilbo all about how they had made these things themselves. Bilbo put the necklace on at once, grinning as he thanked the siblings.

“Well, come on then, uncle.” They then shouted loudly, not noticing how most of the party had gone quiet by now.  
“What have you to give our Hobbit?” They continued. Thorin stood up.

“First things first, I’d like to extend a formal, public apology for the treatment of the Hero of Erebor after the Battle of Five Armies - don’t give me that look Bilbo -… Secondly, the gift. I would like to grant you, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, a full citizenship of Erebor.” Bilbo looked flabbergasted at the King’s words as the other Dwarves cheered loudly.  
Bilbo got up to thank Thorin, but didn’t have time to say a word before a shrill voice cut through the air.

“What is this scandalous thing happening here?!” Lobelia Sackville-Baggins cried. Everyone’s attention turned to the perhaps least liked Hobbit of the Shire.  
“What are you screaming about, woman, we’re gifting our friend on his birthday!” Dwalin barked, making the whole section of Hobbits Lobelia was standing in, jump back a good step.

“But you don’t GET presents on your birthday, you GIVE them.” Lobelia croaked on. The Dwarves exchanged worried glances, afraid they had just done something very insulting. But Bilbo laughed, drawing all attention to him.

“If you hadn’t noticed, Lobelia, I’m sorry I thought it was a bit hard to miss what with the height, build and beards and all, but they are Dwarves, they have a different culture and in their culture it is normal to give gifts to the one celebrating ones birthday.” Bilbo said, one sickly-sweet word after another. Lobelia turned possibly the most impressive shade of scarlet the Dwarves had ever seen and some of the Hobbits chuckled, already persuaded by Bilbo’s words. She huffed loudly and hightailed out of the mass.  
“Now, as my tradition dictates, I also have gifts for you, my friends.” Bilbo smiled reassuringly at the Dwarves, who all smiled relieved, glad their friend had dodged that one for them and Bilbo did seem genuinely happy about receiving gifts.

The faux pas was soon forgotten as the excitement of getting gifts, instead of only giving them, took place in most (all, but some had the dignity not to show it too much) of the Dwarves.

Balin received a book on the battle between Hobbits and Goblins, which he accepted with much mirth. Bifur got a bottle of fine, golden mead, which Bilbo promised had very little alcohol in it and it was more like honey lemonade really. Óin received a much smaller book on the correct treatment on Hobbits and Hobbit cures, tonics and salves, which the Dwarf received with great excitement in his eyes.

Fíli and Kíli got a box each, filled to the brim with different kinds of sweets. They moaned and groaned loudly about being seen as children, until they popped a candy each in their mouths and looked lost for a moment before cradling the boxes protectively against their chests.  
Dwalin opened his present and looked down at the gift in disbelief.

“Oh no…! Oh Dwalin, I’m terribly sorry.” Bilbo squawked as he saw a book with the title “Knitting patterns from Hobbiton” in the warrior’s big hands.  
“That was meant for Ori, here, this is your-”  
“No, I want it!” The big dwarf claimed quickly and hid the book under his shirt. The rest blinked at him owlishly for a moment.  
“What?!” He barked; making the poor Hobbits standing close by, jump again.

This resulted in Ori receiving the gift originally intended for Dwalin, a finely crafted and ornate drinking horn. Ori seemed glad enough about his gift, but Dori frowned deeply at the thought of his little brother drinking more than the occasional mug of ale in good company.

“Is this some kind of insult?” Bofur looked up from his gift, which was a sweet bottle of flower oil. “Do you think of me as an elf…?” The toymaker squeaked.  
“No, no…!” Bilbo reassured. “It’s for your hands, they dry out when you work so much with wood, if you use that oil it will soften them up a bit.” The Hobbit explained quickly.  
“Oh, well in that case, thank you.” Bofur was all smiles again.

Dori got a book filled with recipes from Hobbiton, which he barely got to open before he declared he simply HAD to make this and that.  
“What’s this, thieving tools?” Nori looked at the Hobbit appraisingly, while said Hobbit also got very disapproving looks from Dwalin.  
“What, no…!” Bilbo huffed. “They are hair pins, for your…special hair formation.”  
“Hm…yes, excellent, I can have them in my hair and then no one will see…heh.” Bilbo rubbed at his temple and sighed heavily at this.  
“And for you, Thorin.” Bilbo handed the King a rather large, wrapped gift. “I hope you like it.” He said with a slight flush in his cheeks as he continued to talk when the Dwarf began opening his gift.

“I-I’m not sure how it turned out, I mean... I hope it is at least decent enough, I have never written something like that before. I-“  
“There and back again…A Hobbit’s tale…” Thorin read and his eyes went lower and then widened.  
“By Bilbo Baggins…?” He looked up at the fidgeting and blushing Hobbit.  
“It’s the story about our quest to Erebor, ehem, from my point of view of course.”  
The Dwarven King smiled brilliantly, in that way of his that could make even the darkest of creatures a little weak in the knees.

“I am looking forward to reading it.”  
“W-well, I’m glad then…!” Bilbo said, perhaps a bit too loudly and then became self-conscious again.  
“Where did the music go?” He piped up and had scurried off again, leaving the Dwarves to admire their gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon Hoard game was obviously invented by the author, it is a mix of different games I played as a child. The game is fully playable if you feel up to it xD and if you think there are many rules to be a child's game, well, not really. I played games that were way more difficult (Like Invade Isengard, no I'm not joking x) )  
> The only issue is cheating which is possible seeing as no one is always there to keep track of the different treasure hoards. So everyone keep in mind to play fairly!  
> Oh, and remember to swap roles, it might not be fun for the person who ALWAYS have to be the dragon. 
> 
> Ehem, story wise, the game was created by the Dwarves from the company to honor Bilbo Baggins and his deed of sneaking past the dragon.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want to see mountains again!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those who can guess which allusions I've hidden in here ( I do use quite a lot of them you know xD )

Bilbo didn’t even go to bed that night. When all Hobbits had gone home in the small hours of the morning and the Dwarves had returned to Bilbo’s home to get some shut eye, Bilbo had stayed in his garden. There, he silently smoked as he watched the sun rise over Hobbiton.  
He thought of his life here in the Shire, thought of Bag End and Frodo Baggins. He put the pipe back into his mouth, biting down on it gently as the wheels of his mind turned swiftly.

His life here after he had returned hadn't been dreadful or anything, but it had been empty. Frodo had filled a great deal of that void, of course, but still something was missing. With the Dwarves here, he felt whole and content, as if a piece of his very soul had been returned to him. Bilbo had no doubt, however, that piece would be ripped right out again once the Dwarves left. Unless…

Unless Bilbo came with them. Thorin had granted him full citizenship after all. Oh, but there was still the matter of little Frodo. Bilbo sighed heavily.  
“Is something troubling you, Bilbo?” A deep voice sounded behind him. The Hobbit didn’t need to look, he knew that voice.

“You could say that… yes, something is troubling me.” Bilbo replied and drew in more smoke that he released shortly after. Thorin took a seat next to him, not saying anything.  
“It’s been 9 years…” The Hobbit breathed.  
“Yes…”

“That’s not really much.” Bilbo stated out of the blue, Thorin chuckled.  
“Perhaps not in Dwarven or even Hobbit years, but it is 9 years all the same.” The King said firmly.  
“Yes, but… I tire already, Thorin. I do not belong here anymore, sure I love the Shire, even more so Bag End… but I long to be elsewhere, to go on adventures again. I want to see mountains again, Thorin, mountains!” The Hobbit sighed longingly and drew more smoke.

“I say, Master Hobbit, you sound almost like a Dwarf.” Thorin smiled as the Hobbit chuckled at that.  
“Oh, I’m still a Hobbit, but also a Hobbit who has seen that the world is so much more than the Shire. And even though I would miss it if I left… I would want nothing more.” They were quiet for a moment, Bilbo pushing out a nicely shaped ring of smoke. Thorin followed the ring’s path until it dissolved.  
“You could go…” The voice of the King was quiet, yet it sounded thunderous to Bilbo’s ears.

“Frodo…” He began.  
“Could come with.” Thorin continued and Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat.  
“That…That is very generous Thorin, but there is still the matter of whether he wants to or not. Frodo belongs here, amongst soft, green hills.”  
“But you do not, Bilbo, you can give both yourself and Frodo the choice individually. There is plenty of family here.” The unspoken words about Frodo staying in the Shire while Bilbo went with the Dwarves hung in the air. Bilbo simply hummed something that swiftly ventured into a familiar tune.  
“In your book, you expanded that song, did you do it or did you hear it from someone?” Thorin looked at the Hobbit.  
“My words.”  
“Then you truly know us well.”  
No more words were said between them as both fell into humming the tune quietly.

“Frodo, come here for a moment, my boy.” Bilbo called out, just as the young Hobbit was about to run after his friends. He turned and walked to his Uncle dutifully upon being called though, he was a good lad.

“Frodo, I need to tell you something and you need to listen carefully to what I have to say, alright?” His nephew’s eyes widened slightly and then the Hobbit nodded, his curls bouncing slightly. Bilbo smiled and ruffled said curls before taking Frodo to the garden. The Dwarves were around Hobbiton, eager to see if the acquaintances they had made yesterday still were willing to converse or if it had only been the ale from last night’s party that had gotten the gentle folk willing to talk.

“Have I done something wrong, Uncle?” Frodo’s eyes were big as he sat down.  
“No, my dear Frodo, you’re a very good lad.” The Hobbitling seemed to relax a bit.  
“I’m afraid that it is I who is not very good, my dear boy.” Bilbo continued and smiled upon seeing Frodo’s furrowed brows.  
“Your uncle is very selfish, Frodo, I took you in because I felt my life was lacking. You made my life full again, you’re the best thing that happened to me after the Adventure and now I’m repaying you by presenting you with a choice no youngster like you should ever have to make.”

“I don’t understand, Uncle…”  
“Frodo, I’m not staying in Bag End…”  
“Are we going to Buckland?”  
“No Frodo, I’m going to travel back to Erebor together with the Dwarves.”  
“What, but…but then you will miss the Harvest Festival!”  
“I might miss all the Harvest Festivals in the Shire from now on, dear Frodo.”

“You… you’re not coming back?” Frodo’s bright, blue eyes were tearing up and it made Bilbo’s chest feel terribly tight.  
“I don’t know Frodo.” Bilbo answered honestly.  
“But you can’t just leave me alone…! Not for that long!” The young Hobbit had risen to his feet.

“That’s where the choice comes in, Frodo, I’m giving you the choice to either come with me, or stay here in the Shire with the Brandybucks.”  
“C-come with you…?” Frodo blinked up at him and then a huge smile formed.  
“With the Dwarves? To their home? With Fíli, Kíli, Ori, Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Óin, Dwalin, Balin and Thorin?!”  
“Goodness me, child, when did you learn to say all their names that fast?”  
“Kíli taught me!”

“Of course he did, and yes, you would. Thorin has welcomed you to Erebor as well.”  
“Oh, when do we leave!?” Frodo sounded ecstatic at the thought and was about to rush into Bag End, then the Hobbitling stopped and Bilbo’s chest felt tight again as the smile slowly faltered. 

“Does… does that mean I might not come back either…?”  
“Well, you could travel back once you become of age, or maybe we could visit…” Bilbo trailed off, not wanting to try and persuade the boy into what Bilbo truly wanted, he was selfish perhaps, but not THAT selfish.

“But what about Sam, Merry and Pippin?” Frodo’s lip trembled.  
“They will stay here, Frodo…”  
The Hobbitling looked at his uncle for a long time, both Hobbits using their eyes to search the other. Then water finally spilled from Frodo’s eyes and he ran to his uncle, hugging his waist. Bilbo bent down and embraced the boy.

“I can’t leave, I can’t! I’m too scared…!” Frodo sobbed and all Bilbo could do was pat the Hobbitling’s back as his heart ached.  
“But don’t leave me, Uncle Bilbo, don’t leave…!” The Hobbitling held Bilbo’s shirt in a vice grip.  
“Oh Frodo, dear, sweet Frodo.” Bilbo kissed the still sobbing Hobbitling’s curly head. “I have to, lad…”  
Frodo just hid his face against Bilbo’s neck that became wet from Frodo’s tears.

Two days after the party The Company was gathered once more, saying their goodbyes to the few Hobbits that had gathered to see them off from the field by the Party Tree. Merry and Pippin’s parents had all promised to bring Frodo safely with them back home and to take good care of the lad. Said lad was still sniveling, but trying to keep his tears at bay. The Dwarves were all a bit disappointed that the wee Hobbit had chosen to stay, but they understood and mentioned nothing about it. They simply gave the Hobbitlings warm hugs with promises of visiting a day (and to bring Dwarven toys).

“Well, this is it, Frodo my boy.” Bilbo knelt down in front of Frodo, whose lips trembled slightly. Bilbo drew the boy in for a hug.  
“You’ll be fine; you’re a good and strong lad, Frodo.” Bilbo held the other a bit away, looking the Hobbitling over.  
“I’ll miss you.” He leant forward and placed a gentle kiss against Frodo’s forehead before getting up, Frodo gripping his uncle’s hand until Bilbo was all the way up and backed away slowly with a sad smile.

“Take good care of him.” He turned to one of his many cousins on the Took side.  
“We will, and he will inherit Bag End once he’s of age.”  
“Don’t worry Master Baggins, we’ll watch over Bag End ‘till that day.”  
“Thank you Mister Gamgee.” Bilbo bowed his head. “Well, we best be off.” Bilbo hoisted himself up onto his pony’s back. They rode away while waving to the Hobbits, the little ones running up a hill to keep track of them longer.

They had been riding for barely twenty minutes when a small voice shouted behind them.

“Wait, wait for me!” The entire Company halted and looked over their shoulders. Bilbo caught sight of young Frodo running wildly towards them, hands flailing and a packed backpack on his back. A sight that reminded the Dwarves much of how Bilbo himself had joined their adventure.

Bilbo slid down from the Pony’s back and caught young Frodo, who more or less flew into his arms.  
“I want to come with you, Uncle!” Frodo pressed himself against Bilbo.  
“But, Frodo, what about your home here in the Shire-“

“You’re my home!” Little Frodo insisted. Bilbo’s heart swelled and he felt his eyes tear up; he smiled down at the boy.  
“Come on then.” He lifted Frodo onto the pony before getting up behind him. The Dwarves around him had become a little misty eyed themselves by the look of it, and all of them sent brilliant smiles to the Hobbitling.

“Wait, you did tell the others, right?” Bilbo looked down at his nephew.  
“Paladin gave me the backpack!” Frodo explained, beaming up at his uncle.  
Of course, Bilbo thought with a small smile of his own as the company began moving forward again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Thorin is talking about is of course Song of The Lonely Mountain (By Neil Finn) I just made it so Bilbo wrote that "extended version" and added it to the book.
> 
> OH! and there is now ART (yes, ART) from this fic :'D  
> http://unicornzcupcake.tumblr.com/post/42604186875/shh-frodo-shh-my-boy-its-alright-its-only-a
> 
> I love it, I need it *hugs*


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syrup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, but look at the bright side! My Beta was actually sick, but she read it over anyways when I was done. Kudos to her ^^

Their journey was a peaceful and quiet one. Bilbo was ever so thankful to the Company who did their very best to entertain the little Hobbitling, though Bilbo suspected that the Faunt had simply ensnared them all by now and had every respectable Dwarf wrapped around his tiny fingers.

Frodo had started by sleeping close to Bilbo, but soon moved his bed roll next to the King’s and would nestle against Thorin. This made Bilbo huff and bring his own bed roll closer to Thorin’s; Frodo was HIS nephew after all. The others would snigger and send peculiar looks Bilbo’s way, which he promptly ignored while blushing all the way to his ear tips.

“Uncle…?” Frodo was sitting in front of him on the pony that moved along at a comfortable pace.  
“Yes, my boy?” Bilbo smiled down at his little nephew.  
“Are we going to see the Elves? Oh, please say we will!” Frodo looked up at him with begging eyes.  
“Oh, why certainly, I was planning to see them myself.” Bilbo reassured.

“Rivendell is a bit of a detour with the road we’re planning to take, little Hobbit.” Dwalin muttered to them.  
“But, I want to see the Elves…” Frodo’s lower lip quivered slightly and Dwalin had to look away while biting his own lip.  
“If we don’t stop in Rivendell, I am taking Frodo to Thranduil, because that is CERTAINLY on the way and I am not going to deny my nephew a visit to the Elves. Am I making myself clear, King under the Mountain?” Bilbo sent Thorin a pointed look. Said King looked frozen to the spot and emotionally torn.  
“We head for Rivendell!” He declared hastily and change direction.  
“You hear that, Frodo, we’re going to see Elves.” Bilbo smiled smugly while Frodo cheered.

Rivendell was just as beautiful as it had been the first time Bilbo visited when he was on the Quest for Erebor. Frodo was looking at everything so intently, trying his best to catch every sight at the same time that Bilbo feared for the young one’s neck. 

They were greeted and welcomed by Lord Elrond himself, who placated the Dwarves by inviting them to a feast fit for kings and with a promise that meat would be on the menu this time.

The Dwarves did, however, look utterly heartbroken over the fact that Frodo seemed more interested in the Elves for the time being. It did not matter what games or stories they made promises of, Frodo's attention remained fixated on the Elves. Bilbo chuckled as he saw the royal siblings look crestfallen as they were turned away yet again as Frodo was invited to play with some Elven children.

That evening Bilbo helped Frodo write some letters to his friends in the Shire, as there was no reason to let them be forgotten no matter the distance between them, Bilbo had said. Pleased by his work, Frodo wanted to send ahead the letters at once. Only after Thorin came to check in on them, and added his voice of reason to Bilbo’s, did Frodo finally give in and crawl to bed. The letters were placed on a nightstand close to the Hobbitling so he could make sure they didn’t run away or something else equally unlikely.  
Both grown-ups chuckled mildly as the little one fell asleep only seconds after his soft curls hit the pillow.

“I see you have tried to get the bead from my sister-sons into your hair.” Thorin noted.  
“Tried being the key word here, does it show that well?”  
“Come, I’ll help you with it, your hair might be short but I am confident in my skills.” Thorin smiled and sat Bilbo down on a bench outside of the room. He began by gently combing the Hobbit’s hair. Bilbo decided to just go with it, it felt nice and it was late so there was less chance of people wandering about that could later tease him for this.  
Every now and then Thorin would brush against Bilbo’s sensitive ears, making Bilbo blush as tingles ran down his spine. He willed himself to relax and stop this nonsense behavior. 

No word was passed between them as Thorin concentrated on braiding in the bead and Bilbo concentrated on not making any embarrassing sounds as Thorin continued to accidentally brush against the Hobbit’s ears. Oh, for goodness sake, this was Thorin! He had absolutely no interest whatsoever in a lowly Hobbit such as himself. Bilbo huffed to himself.

“Is everything alright? Is it too tight?”  
The sudden breach of the silence made Bilbo squeak ever so slightly.  
“W-what…? No, no I was just thinking. Sorry.” Bilbo said hurriedly, his tongue tripping over itself and Bilbo cursed himself for seeming like such a bumpkin. Thorin just laughed lowly before continuing. Bilbo could feel the low, pleasant sound rumble behind him. He leant back slightly and felt the rumble still. He held his breath as Thorin kept still for a moment, and then let the breath go as Thorin’s hands were in his hair again. 

The Hobbit relaxed and a small, slightly sad smile began forming on his lips. He might as well enjoy these precious moments with Thorin, for they would surely not last once they made it to Erebor. The Hobbit knew that Thorin felt he had wronged him greatly, what with being so cold a larger part of their first journey together and then casting Bilbo away for trying to save them all with the cost being the Arkenstone.

Bilbo closed his eyes and relaxed, doing his best to imprint the feel of Thorin’s hands in his hair to his own mind, so that he may never forget it. He didn’t know how long Thorin kept going, but suddenly his hair lay still. He opened his eyes and tipped his head a bit backwards to get a better look at Thorin.  
“There, done.” Bilbo smiled at that and got up, going over to look at the result in a reflection glass.

“But Thorin… there are two beads here?” Bilbo turned to look at the Dwarf.  
“Ah yes, uh, it is a gift from me. I hope you like it?”  
Bilbo turned to look at the bead closer; it was made from stone and was marred with soft shades of blue. He also couldn’t help but notice how the bead complimented the colors of his eyes. Bilbo smiled.

“It looks lovely, thank you Thorin.”  
The king cleared his throat and fidgeted slightly.  
“Well good, good night.” He said roughly before turning on his heel and marching out, leaving Bilbo confused. Had he said something to irk Thorin again?

 

The next day it looked like Thorin was avoiding Bilbo, something that saddened the Hobbit a bit. But he guessed he would have to get used to it, Thorin was a king after all and didn’t have time to look after a little Hobbit and his even smaller nephew.

“Oh, you have the bead in!” Kili cheered as he rode up next to Bilbo and Frodo.  
“Thorin helped me, last night.” Bilbo smiled and nodded at Fili who also joined them.  
“Oh, uncle did?” Kili raised an eyebrow before noticing something else.  
“Say, didn’t we just give you one bead?”  
“Thorin gave me another.” Bilbo touched the two beads carefully and then suddenly had his face full of Kili who was leaning dangerously far off his own pony to get a good look at this second bead.

“Isn’t that the- ow!” He turned upright again and glared at his brother.  
“Is something wrong?”  
“Not at all, Bilbo my friend, Kili was just about saying something unnecessary.” Fili smiled charmingly before dragging his brother close, the two of them whispering furiously between each other, every now and then looking up to meet the thunderous look their uncle was sending them.

The trip over the Misty Mountains was quite enjoyable this time, with a great view and weather. Frodo enjoyed himself immensely and showed no signs of the height-fright that was so common in a simple Hobbit soul.

Mirkwood was even more impressive to the little Hobbit and he would ask so many questions that neither Bilbo nor the Dwarves were able to keep up. All in all, Bilbo was very proud of his little nephew that was taking this journey in a good, long stride. He barely complained, always wanted to help and never whined or cried. Frodo Baggins showed true spirit and it made Bilbo’s Tookish heart swell with pride and affection, and as for his Baggin’s side. That side of his heart swelled with equal pride over Frodo’s well-natured being and (at least decent) manners.

 

Thorin was the one with Frodo in front of him as they rode from Dale that morning. The Hobbitling had long since been forgiven for his mild fraternization with the Elves; Bilbo had actually smacked all the Dwarves that had spoken in such terms, and the Hobbitling had changed whom he rode with almost every day since leaving Rivendell.

“There it is, Frodo.” Thorin said as the mighty sight of Erebor came into view. The small gasp of awe was extremely pleasing to hear. Thorin smiled widely as Frodo sat up a little straighter to get a better view.

“Our home.” Thorin continued.  
“Home…” The Hobbitling repeated, quietly.

“The King has returned!” Someone yelled from above and guards snapped to attention. Frodo’s eyes were wide as saucers and he wiggled back a bit, seeking comfort from Thorin’s chest. If the guards noticed the tiny creature that was hiding between the King’s fur, no one made any notion at it. By the great entrance of Thorin’s kingdom stood Bombur and Glóin, with the Lady Dís.

“Welcome back, brother.” She greeted and bowed her head slightly in required amount of respect. Thorin got off the pony and helped little Frodo down who looked so impossibly tiny compared to the huge surroundings.

“Bilbo, you rascal! It is so good to see you again!” Glóin boomed and went ahead to give the Hobbit a nice and possibly back-crushing hug. Bombur followed close behind, but Dís only had eyes for the little Hobbit who was clutching a piece of Thorin’s long shirt in his hand. Thorin looked down at the Hobbitling with a fondness in his eyes that Dis hadn’t seen in her brother since her own Fíli and Kíli were small.

“Frodo, this is my sister, Dís. She’s the mother of Fíli and Kíli.” Thorin crouched down as he spoke gently to the Hobbitling. Dís immediately crouched down as well.  
“Hello little one, what is your name?” She had heard what Thorin said, but giving away information about oneself was an excellent ice breaker with children.  
“Frodo…” The little one answered shyly.

“Frodo, what a lovely name and how old are you Frodo?” Dís smiled; oh, she was in love with this little boy already.  
“9…” Frodo answered, a bit more brave with the praising words and Thorin’s constant presence.  
“9,” Dis gasped “I had at least expected you to be 11!” she exclaimed and little Frodo brightened up like a sunrise and smiled brilliantly as he puffed up his chest a little bit.  
“We shall feast tonight, to celebrate your arrival.” Thorin said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Can we have pancakes?” Frodo piped up, now brave enough after having been introduced to Dís and survived without embarrassment of any sort.  
“I shall see to it myself.” Bombur declared and winked at the Hobbitling.

“With Syrup?” Frodo looked up at Thorin who laughed heartily at the Fauntling’s seemingly obsession with the sweet stuff.  
“With Syrup.” He agreed and was rewarded with a big smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now even more fanart of this fic over at Tumblr :'D and it is so lovely!  
> recognize this http://non-contra-veum.tumblr.com/image/42799070227 scene? ^^


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erebor is basically huge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter hasn't been beta read, if you find any errors I'd like it if you pointed them out, thanks :)

Before anyone really knew what hit them, Thorin had been swept away by officials and moaning nobles. Frodo and Bilbo didn’t get much time to sigh over the Dwarven King’s absence however, as Fíli and Kíli dragged them both to see the rebuilt Erebor. Bilbo was impressed by the sheer beauty of the kingdom, much improved since he last was there.   
Frodo, who was sitting on Kíli’s shoulders, nearly made both of them fall backwards as the little Hobbit would lean so far backwards so he could see the huge statues and ancient patterns in the ceiling.

“Frodo, stop trying to ground Kíli.” Bilbo chuckled.  
“But this place is HUGE.” Frodo said in utter awe.   
“I know it is, but you’ll get a cramp if you carry on like that.”

 

They were taken to the Royal Wing sometime later, to be shown to their rooms. Frodo squealed excitedly as the double doors opened to reveal a big room that simply HAD to be just as big as Bag End, why, maybe even bigger! The Hobbitling rushed inside and was everywhere in only matter of seconds, soon exploring the separate rooms that were joined to the main room. 

“I want this room; you can have the one with the big bed, Uncle!” Frodo shouted as he ran past them and opened a third door. For once Bilbo let his little nephew run around inside, knowing the Hobbitling would be shaking from excitement if he wasn’t given an outlet for all that energy in him. 

“The bathroom is HUGE as well…!” Frodo squealed again.  
“This is too much, you two.” Bilbo turned to the brothers who looked innocently back at him.  
“It is only what you deserve, dear Hero of Erebor.” Fíli gave a bow. Bilbo just snorted.  
“And we want you close, for several reasons. Me and Kíli have our rooms just down the hall to the left; we passed them on the way here. Uncle Thorin has his rooms down the hall to the right.” Fíli explained. 

“And food? Seeing as Frodo hasn’t yelled anything yet, I doubt there is a kitchen hiding here somewhere.”  
“No, you can have someone bring you food from the kitchens, go down to the kitchens yourself or go to the Royal Dining Hall around meal times.” Kíli answered, smiling widely as he caught sight of an still excited Frodo who was now exploring a rather big closet.   
“This is HUGE as well…!”  
The grown-ups laughed heartily.

 

It wasn’t much later when Bilbo, together with Frodo and the two brothers, made their way to the dining hall for the welcoming feast. Bilbo was relieved the feast was to be a personal one, he didn’t think Frodo would cope well with being presented to all of Erebor just yet, and neither was he for that matter.  
All of the Company was there to greet them when they arrived, all smiles and cheer. Well, almost everyone.

“Where’s Thorin…?” Frodo pouted, and Bilbo secretly wished he was young enough to pout with him at the lack of a certain dwarven king.  
“My brother didn’t exactly warn the nobles he was going on a little trip, so even though I managed to pacify them while Thorin was away… well they have been readying themselves for MONTHS now.” Dís rolled her eyes.

“So…why is Dwalin here then?”  
“Because I know this will be a good feast, and I’m not above rubbing it into Thorin’s face that I can slip away every now and then. I do trust the royal guard, I trained them myself you know.” Dwalin boomed.   
“If you say so.” Bilbo offered a small smile.

They ate delicious food that Bombur had supervised himself, being the Head Chef of the Royal Kitchens. Frodo would probably over-eat like a proper Hobbit for once, Bilbo mused.

 

It was much later by the time Thorin arrived with a scandalized face.  
“I’ve just had the most horrible petitions of all time, and then I find you lot here, feasting and…and smoking!” Thorin narrowed his eyes at Dwalin who was patting a full stomach while chewing gently on his pipe, grinning widely at his king.

“The roasted pork, is particularly good.” Bofur raised his hand, leaning heavily on Bifur.  
“What’s left of it.” Balin chuckled.   
“Thorin…!” Frodo cheered, though he sounded tired. The Hobbitling tried to get up, but just gave a loud belch before sinking back to his chair with a loud groan.  
“There is hope for him yet!” Kíli cheered and the Company laughed, Frodo whimpered.  
“It is your own fault, young man; you really shouldn’t try to stuff so much cake into such a little body just yet.” Bilbo patted Frodo’s curly locks. 

 

By the time Thorin had gotten to get some decent food into his own belly, Frodo was more or less sleeping on a cushioned bench while the Dwarves were gradually getting drunker, singing songs and being overall loud. How the boy could sleep through it all never ceased to amaze Bilbo whenever he would check up on him.

“By the way, Bilbo…!” Kíli sang as he slumped down to the Hobbit.  
“Yes, Kíli?” Bilbo smiled at the slightly swaying Dwarf. 

“Congratulations on a begun courtship…!” Kíli grinned and swung his mug of ale for emphasis before taking a big gulp from it.  
“C-courtship…?” Bilbo hiccupped.   
“You accepted Uncle’s bead, didn’t you…?” Kíli looked confused and leant a bit closer to look at the braid in Bilbo’s hair.  
“W-well yes, but…”

“Then yer courting….!” Kíli cheered again, loud enough to draw attention this time.  
“Wait, no, explain to me… Kíli…!” Bilbo could only look at the Dwarf helplessly as said Dwarf tumbled off the bench and onto the ground, the rest of the ale spilling onto the floor.  
“Looks like someone’s had too much…” Fíli giggled and poked his brother’s cheek.

“Thorin, a word.” Thorin swallowed as he looked up at Bilbo before setting down his own mug of ale.  
“Look after Frodo, dear Dís.” Bilbo said to the woman, the two of them already great friends, secretly bonding over complaints about Thorin’s less charming personality traits.  
“Of course, my Dear Hobbit.” Dís smiled and went over to the Hobbitling to make sure he was still sleeping soundly. 

 

“What is this about courting?” Bilbo turned around the second the hall doors closed behind Thorin.  
“I’m sorry, I realize it was stupid to assume you knew about our traditions and-“

“Yes it was, but tell me why?” Bilbo cut Thorin off. The Hobbit’s heart was beating harshly in his chest. Seeing the king shuffled a bit, searching for words. Thorin didn’t prank around about this, he couldn’t, for he was much too serious about things. Right…? Bilbo didn’t dare act on the small hope before he knew for sure.

“I…When we were on the Quest for Erebor together, I slowly came to care for you. A great deal, actually…But I didn’t want to say anything, because…”  
“I’m not a Dwarf…” It was a statement, not a question. For it was something Bilbo had found out as well during the journey. 

“Yes and then, when we came here and the Arkenstone…I lost myself, my very being and in my madness I sent you away.” Thorin fell into silence for a little while and then on the same breath “I missed you, I drove myself near mad with possible scenarios, asking myself ‘if’s’ and ‘perhaps’. I don’t care, Bilbo. I couldn’t care less that you’re not a Dwarf, you…” The King fell into silence again as Bilbo had his eyes on Thorin, not blinking as he was afraid to lose a single move or breath the King let out.

“You are everything my heart yearns for, Bilbo…I fought it, I avoided it and I failed miserably. The bead…Rivendell it was…It was me fooling myself, I hope you will forgive-“  
Bilbo didn’t let Thorin continue, he had heard enough and his Took side was urging him to DO something before this went somewhere no one wanted it to go. He grabbed Thorin’s shirt and pulled. It was only due to the shock at the sudden movement that Thorin was pulled against and down towards Bilbo’s lips. 

The heat that had pooled up in Bilbo’s chest froze as Thorin went stiff against his lips. He pulled back with a worried frown, only to be greeted by possibly the reddest Dwarf he had ever seen. Thorin just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing but no words made it out.

So Bilbo did the only thing he could think of, his hand flying up to his braid. He undid it and pulled the two beads out; Thorin got a look of worry in his eyes. Then Bilbo held out his hand, a small, beautifully carved bead in his hand.

“That’s the wrong bead, Bilbo…” Thorin looked up at Bilbo again.  
“No, that bead is the only one I have, which hasn’t been anyone else’s.”  
“But…the blue bead.”

“Is mine, you gave that to me.” Bilbo stressed. “Do you accept my bead, or not?” nerves made Bilbo babble slightly.  
“I accept…!” Thorin said quickly, finally catching up. He took the bead from Bilbo carefully.  
“Does this mean that we-“

The King was silence again, now that Bilbo deemed it actually proper by both Dwarven and Hobbit culture to kiss.  
And this time, Thorin didn’t seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy valentine people, I hope yours is better than mine (gonna spend it at the doctor's office)
> 
> We are slowly, but surely moving onto the mature content of the story. You have been warned.
> 
> Sorry if I f**ed up the sweet scene D: It's been so long since I did this, i mean, I love writing again but I feel like a rusty door with VERY creaky hinges xD


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo - Thorin  
> = Sad Bilbo  
> Sad Bilbo + Frodo  
> = Distressed Frodo  
> Distressed Frodo + Kíli + Fíli * Dís  
> = Plan  
> Plan + Bilbo  
> = ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing involves me blowing my cover and showing me off as the lame and bad writer I am :(  
> Please do not think too badly of me after this love scene thing... I just hope I didn't mess it up to badly.
> 
> *  
> Sorry for the wait!

Thorin and Bilbo spent quite a lot of time together in the days after the feast, which by all means wasn’t very strange at all, and Bilbo seemed to be getting bolder by each passing day. Young Frodo found this increased time with Thorin to be wonderful as well as highly entertaining, especially when Uncle Bilbo would press the softest of kisses against a sleeping Thorin’s forehead, making the King under the Mountain startle and blush while sneaking glances in all directions to see if anyone had seen his moment of weakness.  
What Frodo didn’t like where the periods where the King was too busy to do the smallest of things with them, like eating lunch or tuck Frodo to bed after a long day filled with activities. Not only did he not get to spend time with Thorin, but Bilbo also seemed a bit sad in those moments. It was in such moments that Frodo really missed the Shire and his friends there. They would have known what they could do to change the situation, to get Thorin and Bilbo to spend more time together.

After a whole week of Thorin being absent, Frodo finally confined in Fíli and Kíli, the two brothers looked at each other quizzically. 

“But if Bilbo gets sad that means…” Fíli looked at his brother.  
“Uncle hasn’t completed the union…?” The blonde smacked the brunette.  
“It means that nothing is actually official, even if we know about it.” The Older huffed.  
“I want Uncle Bilbo to be happy.” Frodo piped up, trying to sound more mature and sure of himself.  
“And I think I have a plan as to how we are going to make that happen…” Fíli smirked. 

 

Thorin was just about to head into a room to meet with some nobles when Fíli rushed in together with his mother.

“Uncle, you must come quickly. Bilbo is very upset and we can’t pacify him!” Fíli urged.  
“What, Bilbo? What has happened?” Thorin sounded alarmed.  
“Some Dwarf in the market touched him in a most inappropriate way.” Fíli continued and almost flinched at the possibly menacing look that crossed Thorin’s face before deflating by a glance at the meeting door. 

“The Nobles…”  
“I will handle them brother, go, do not let sweet Bilbo suffer from being unsure any longer.” His sister brushed past him and slipped into the room before Thorin could either protest or give consent. He didn’t need further urging to hurry out into the halls and run to the Royal Chambers though, staff would remember King Thorin’s urgency for many weeks to come.

Thorin ripped the door open and Bilbo nearly tumbled into his arms.  
“Bilbo, are you alright?” The King asked in alarm.  
“What, yes, Kíli just made off with Frodo while cackling. I didn’t like the sound of it so… well…”  
“Your nephew should be safe, Bilbo there is something else.” Thorin leaded them inside and closed the door before putting his hands heavily on Bilbo’s shoulders.  
“Dís said someone had touched you…?”

Bilbo blushed and Thorin felt a huge, ferocious beast claw within his chest.  
“W-well yes, but-“  
“Inappropriately?”  
“Heavens, yes-“  
“I’ll have them hanged…!” Thorin roared, jealousy getting the better of him.  
“W-what, Thorin…!”  
“Who was it, do you know?” Thorin hissed out.  
“Thorin, please calm down.”  
“You liked this touch then?!”  
“What, no! As I was saying-“  
“Then let me know-“ He was cut off by the Hobbit pinching his nose with an annoyed look.  
“I’m trying to tell you, Thorin, that it is nothing to worry about. Yes the touch was inappropriate, yes I was terribly embarrassed but it was all a joke.”  
“A joke…!?” Thorin sounded terribly funny what with Bilbo managing to cut off air supply though the King’s nose.  
“Yes.” Bilbo snorted.  
“Who dared…?!”  
“Your nephew, Thorin Oakenshield, so I suggest that you calm yourself.” Bilbo let go of Thorin’s nose once it became apparent Thorin wasn’t flying off anywhere.  
“What… my, but… Dís said.” 

“I am thankful to your sister though, she did steal me a moment with you it seems.” Bilbo grinned and leant up, capturing Thorin’s lips with his own and staying there till the King finally snapped out of his bewilderment and responded in kind. 

 

How they had done it was beyond Bilbo, but somehow they had navigated through the room and into Bilbo’s bedroom without knocking over too many things. The situation had gotten so much better when Thorin had just picked the Hobbit up and carried him while still kissing him. 

He was put down on the bed, but seeing as Bilbo refused to let go, Thorin tumbled rather ungracefully into the bed after him.  
“Boots off…” Bilbo murmured to the Dwarf who had his face planted against Bilbo’s stomach after the fall. Thorin grumbled but managed to kick his boots off after some wriggling and shuffling that tickled Bilbo delightfully. 

Thorin climbed into bed completely, loosening some of his clothing as he went and Bilbo knew a moment he had longed and waited for was arriving. It made the Hobbit shiver in anticipation. He threaded his hands through Thorin’s thick mane and sighed happily as Thorin went ahead and loosened some of Bilbo’s clothing in turn.

Now, this far they had been before once or twice, but there was just this thing in the air. It sizzled around them and made Bilbo’s skin tingle, a mix of possessiveness that still seemed to ride Thorin as well as frustration and long held back emotions which one simply did not speak too openly about. Bilbo hoisted himself up high enough to tug at one of Thorin’s earlobes with his teeth, the King’s light groan sending excited shivers down the Hobbit’s spine.  
“Do not tempt or tease at this moment, My Bilbo, I won’t be able to resist.”

“I don’t want you to resist.” Bilbo purred back and was then assaulted by full infantry attack of kisses against the length of his neck and jaw as big, warm hands pushed their way into his already loosened shirt. 

“Mm…Thorin…” Bilbo smiled lazily, moving underneath his beloved to give way for more affectionate ministrations. Bilbo was a Hobbit that knew what he wanted by now and had been ruled far too long by his Tookish side to let the more prudish nature of his Baggins side take over. 

The Hobbit’s own nimble fingers began removing the many layers that the King of Erebor was required to wear to show off his status. He nearly gave a frustrated sigh as he never seemed to reach the furnace hot skin he knew lingered beyond the many colorful layers.

Thorin had stopped his own movements, chuckling as his Hobbit gave another frustrated sigh and urged Thorin to flip their positions. With Bilbo straddling his hips, Thorin was content to simply let his hands rest against his Hobbit’s hips and watch his beloved work through his clothing. 

“Curse the dressing sense of Dwarves…” Bilbo muttered before giving an approving sound as he finally spotted clean, warm skin. Almost as if he was in awe of what he was slowly revealing to his own eyes.

His Hobbit had this little smile as he pushed more and more of Thorin’s clothing away, an excited and approving gleam in his eyes, which made Thorin excited in turn. Bilbo leant down and pressed a soft kiss against Thorin’s lips, before kissing the Dwarf’s chin, then down the neck, the collarbone and over to the shoulder. Thorin moved so all the cloth on his upper body could be properly removed, before leaning back while dragging Bilbo with him. His fingers brushed through Bilbo’s golden brown locks, scratching the scalp gently. 

It was as Bilbo pressed his loving kisses down Thorin’s chest that the King truly realized just how much he valued, trusted and adored Bilbo. Dwarves didn’t submit like this, they didn’t let a weaker partner above themselves and the stronger Dwarf, especially royal Dwarves, took complete control of what happened in the bed. But it felt so natural to just let his Hobbit do as he pleased, and therefore in turn please Thorin. 

And besides, Thorin thought as he grunted at a teasing pinch from Bilbo, his partner wasn’t a Dwarf so he believed he was allowed a bit of room for variation from the norm. His hands began to wander again, pushing down the Hobbit’s suspenders and opening the linen shirt with ease. His Hobbit, his beautiful Hobbit, was soft where a Dwarf would be hard as stone or sharp as the swords they were so fond of. Where a Dwarf would be hairy, his beloved Hobbit was almost as bare as a newborn babe. His skin wasn’t rough, but instead felt like the finest silk to Thorin’s calloused hands. His eyes moved up to the Hobbit’s blushing face, Bilbo’s hands and movements had grown still and it looked like he was awaiting something. Thorin smiled in what he hoped was a loving smile as he rolled them both over, flipping their positions once again. 

“You look ready to be devoured, my sweet Burglar.” Thorin growled playfully and reveled in Bilbo’s relieved smile. He kissed that smile simply to taste the sheer sweetness it brought to the Hobbit’s mouth. 

 

The playful and lazy nature to their touches and kisses soon turned more urgent, warmer and more passionate. Bilbo was moaning and writhing underneath Thorin, touches warmer than any forge the King had ever worked with. That said, the King was faring no better as he fought with his own trousers when he could not get them off fast enough for both his and Bilbo’s tastes. 

Bilbo let his hands glide the length of Thorin’s chest before entwining his fingers in the now messy mane that was Thorin’s hair. With a final grunt Thorin managed to get out of his trouser, if perhaps in a little un-kingly fashion. Bilbo giggled but was quickly silenced by a hot mouth upon his own as Thorin worked to get his Hobbit out of his trousers.  
“Mm…Thorin…” Bilbo mumbled as the King pressed hot kisses down Bilbo’s stomach. He gasped when the Dwarf began pressing scratching kisses over his hip. The Hobbit’s arousal was already very much evident and he was way beyond the point of shame by now. Thorin felt his own arousal twitch in anticipation. Instead of getting closer to what they both craved, Thorin moved up again and couldn’t help but smile at the noisy whine Bilbo let out.

“Please, Thorin, don’t tease me like this when we’re finally here…” he mumbled before his words were swallowed in another kiss. The breath that was pushed between them were searing hot and Bilbo clawed at Thorin’s back and bucked his hips up and wriggled to gain friction to his already straining need. 

“W-wait…” Thorin pulled back, feeling his head was wrapped in a hazy fog. “We need…oil or…”  
“Drawer, nightstand, under the books,” 

“You sneaky Hobbit.” Thorin grinned and moved away from the panting Bilbo, he found the small jar of sweet scented salve. He returned and gave his Hobbit a slight peck on the lips before coating one finger generously before pushing it into Bilbo, intending to prepare him. When Bilbo simply writhed, moaned and keened for Thorin to go ‘deeper’, the King looked up in bewilderment.  
“You have done this…before?” It was an incredibly arousing sight, make no mistake, but Thorin could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought that someone had seen his beloved like this before him.

“I’ve…” Bilbo’s properness seemed to return at an inconvenient timing as the Hobbit grabbed a pillow and hid his face under it. The King lent up and tried to force the pillow away, but Bilbo’s grip was strangely fierce. So Thorin instead pushed his own head under it, facing Bilbo’s heated face with his own.

“Please, tell me Bilbo. I wish to know.” Thorin said lowly, throwing in a hint of deep and husky which he knew got the Hobbit going. Bilbo whimpered in the back of his throat before opening his mouth.

“I…I have needs, alright!? So I…p-practiced…”  
“You…to yourself… d-down…?” Thorin’s eyes widened and Bilbo’s blush darkened as he gave a small affirmative nod. The king’s response was to press himself down on Bilbo harshly, ravaging his lover’s mouth. 

“Tho-mmph,” Bilbo’s protest drowned and then re-emerged as a moan as Thorin no longer hesitated to breach Bilbo once more with his fingers. The thought of his very own Hobbit, lying in this very bed while flushing all the way to his pointy ear tips, working his own fingers within himself while, hopefully, moaning Thorin’s name was all incredibly arousing to said Dwarf and he did his best to thoroughly demonstrate just how much we wanted the Hobbit underneath him. 

Bilbo gasped as another finger pressed in and he keened for more, shyness promptly forgotten again as Thorin did wonderful things to the lower half of his body. The pillow became too hot so he tossed it away, only to grab at it again just so he had something to claw at while his toes curled at Thorin’s ministrations.  
“I’m not that fragile…!” Bilbo hissed after a while, he simply couldn’t take this anymore, he needed Thorin, all of him, now!  
“If you say so-“  
“I do, now get on with it…!” Thorin raised an eyebrow at his blushing Hobbit.  
“….please, your Majesty…” 

And well if that didn’t send a red hot spike of arousal straight through Thorin…

 

The slow burn was maddening in all the right ways, Bilbo thought as he held onto Thorin as the Dwarf pushed into him. Oh, he was filling him in a way Bilbo simply hadn’t thought possible and he grunted and moaned simultaneously at the building pressure. Under his hands he could feel Thorin shivering with restraint and so pressed a warm kiss against his King’s shoulder. 

What happened next was a bit of a blur to the both of them, Thorin groaned loudly as he finally all the way in and Bilbo panted heavily as he adjusted to the foreign, yet not unpleasant feeling. Then there was movement, slow at first but rapidly building. 

Bilbo moaned and spread himself wider on the sheets, clutching the sheets in his hands as his eyes rolled back into his skull in bliss.

“Thorin, oh goodness, Thorin…!” He yelled and had his mind been able to focus he would have been very grateful Kíli had stolen Frodo away for a while. Thorin kissed some of his screams of pleasure away, tasting the passion that rode the Hobbit at the tip of his tongue. 

“Bilbo…” Thorin breathed after a particularly lengthy kiss.

“I…I want…!” Bilbo nearly hiccupped and threw his head back against the mattress as Thorin managed to push harder and faster against him.  
“Yes, yes, oh…Thorin… yes…!” His arms flew up and tangled themselves tightly around Thorin’s shoulders so he could better meet his thrusts.  
Their bodies glided against one another perfectly and there was no room in either of their minds for the soreness that would come after this passionate embrace.

“You’re mine…Bilbo…” Thorin managed to breathe into Bilbo’s ear.

And all the Hobbit could do was moan and chant Thorin’s name over and over like a prayer till he finally reached completion in his beloved King’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously it has been ages since I wrote anything even close to that!  
> So if you guys hate it I will change it so you won't have to read it again in the future or spare future readers the horror or something like that.
> 
> Have mercy on a poor, lame writer? D:


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is well, even with clouds in the distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for the insane wait! I hope you forgive me. Several things happened at once, my future chapters being kidnapped is one of them.   
> Things should update at a faster pace now though!
> 
> I hope you'll continue to like this piece of fiction!

Bilbo awoke with the feeling of hunger rumbling through him, but the feeling of warmth and safety nearly made up for it. He stretched out, feeling the pleasant pull and push of his limbs and the rush of warmth when they met the warm skin that belonged to Thorin who still dozed next to him. Bilbo had thought the morning would be unpleasant, that he’d be sore and stiff. He marveled slightly at the fact that it was not so, he was a little sore yes, but nothing he couldn’t handle and his limbs felt relaxed and tingly. He rolled over so he was lying on his stomach and looked over at Thorin, the marks on the Dwarf’s skin bringing a warm blush to the Hobbits cheeks. 

“Mm…” The king brought and hand to his face and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out.  
“Good morning.” Bilbo’s smile widened, his voice still tinged with a bit of sleep. Thorin opened his eyes and looked over at the Hobbit, his Hobbit.  
“Yes, it is a good morning.” He grinned and propped himself up enough so he could lean over and nuzzle against Bilbo’s neck. His Hobbit chuckled and rolled back onto his back and tangled his hands in Thorin’s dark mane. 

“I think we need a bath, my King.” Bilbo purred and a sound he never thought he would ever hear escaped from Thorin Oakenshield’s lips. Bilbo stilled completely, arms still around the now frozen Thorin.  
“Thorin…”  
“No.”  
“Did you just…”  
“No…!”  
“Giggle?” Bilbo began sporting a wide grin as Thorin groaned against the Hobbit’s skin, but he was smiling none the less as his Bilbo began laughing in earnest. The sound filled with eased joy and affection. With a huff, the slightly disgraced king nuzzled further into his Hobbit and let himself be petted. 

 

It was noon by the time Bilbo and Thorin finally left Bilbo’s chambers and headed to the dining hall to get some food. They were met with the oddest of sights.   
Kíli and Frodo seemed normal enough, even if Frodo was upside-down (supported by Bofur) in Kíli’s lap. The Hobbitling was giggling and cheering every time Bofur lifted him into the air. What was odd was that Fíli looked positively dead next to a very drained Dís. When she caught glimpse of her brother she stood up so abruptly that Fíli crashed nose first into the bench where his mother had just been siting.  
“Dear brother,” Dís began sweetly enough, Thorin cringed all the same. “When I said I could handle the nobles, I didn’t mean that I would take over your job for almost a day and a half!” 

Bilbo flinched a little himself, both he and Thorin had completely forgotten about the work that followed with the title: King under The Mountain (Goodness knew they hadn’t forgotten the title, it had been frequently used during the night.)  
“Really, brother, I am happy for you, but look at my poor Fíli!” 

“Now, Now Dís,” Balin said slowly and with measured calm. “It was good training for young Fíli.” He reasoned.  
“Training? He’s more dead than alive.”  
“He’ll need more training then.” Dwalin huffed and looked away to avoid the Lady Dís’ glare sent his way. 

“Dís and Fíli, I apologize for my sudden and lengthy absence, but in all regards you should be able to handle it. You handled my absence easily when I left for my journey to the Shire.” Thorin defended.  
“Yes, but then you had prepared for leaving.” Dís stressed.  
“And there is a lot more going on when we are all gathered in Erebor.” Nori supplied smoothly. Fíli groaned in agreement.   
“It cannot be that bad.” Thorin looked over at Balin.

“There is also the matter that came to our attention yesterday after you left, Thorin.”  
“And none of you thought to mention this might be the reason for the sudden rush?” Thorin rolled his eyes. “What is it then?”  
“The Dwarves of the Blue Mountains have sent word, their King is visiting us.” The mood in the room dropped notably, Bilbo glanced up at his beloved Dwarf who now wore a very grim expression.  
“I think I can guess the purpose.”  
“It was stated quite clearly,”  
“And damn bold too.” Dwalin interrupted his brother.  
“Indeed, what the purpose of their journey is.” Balin continued on like he hadn’t been interrupted at all.   
“They claim compensation.”  
“Of course they do.” Thorin’s jaw clenched firmly. 

“I’m sorry, I think I’m missing something here…?” Bilbo looked at his friends and back to his lover. They took a seat by the table as Thorin began explaining.  
“The Lord of the Blue Mountains graciously accepted us when we went there to seek refuge. We were granted a rather improvable area of the mountains.”  
“That’s putting it the nice, diplomatic way,” Dwalin snorted. “We got the part of the mountain that had crumbled and caved in, everyone had to work with the strength of five and even after months of hard work we barely had anywhere to keep our families safe and warm, let alone fed.” The head of the Guard grimaced, hiding his sneer as best he could when Frodo looked at him with big, round eyes.   
“I’m afraid so,” Thorin confirmed at Bilbo’s glance. “Every now and then we were graced by their presence and given scraps and things they did not value anymore.”

Bilbo didn’t know what to say, so he simply found Thorin’s hand discreetly and took hold of it gently.   
“Aye, but you should have seen their faces when we, with Thorin in the lead, managed to build a decent and even good life in the abandoned mines of the Northern parts of Ered Luin.” Dwalin grinned.   
“What of that part of Ered Luin now?” Bilbo asked quietly.

“We left it for the Blue Mountain Dwarves, every Dwarf who ever lived or ascended from an Erebor Dwarf have returned to us here, if they haven’t settled somewhere else and completely forgotten about their past home and heritage.” Balin replied and Thorin nodded.

“And now those greedy bastards want more.” Dís hissed at no one in particular.   
“Then give them some.” Bilbo said and the room went deathly silent.  
“Bilbo-“ Thorin began with a frown.

“No, listen, argue with them, refuse them and then as a show of good graces you give them a small token, nothing the vaults and treasuries of Erebor couldn’t replace swiftly. Make them feel like they’ve won a minor battle but you won the war.” Bilbo reasoned.  
“That… that is brilliant laddie!” Balin cheered and clapped his hands. Bilbo beamed at the praise given him from the Dwarves and smiled as they began planning tactics as to how to get this done with as swift as possible. Bilbo turned to see Thorin’s expression and felt his entire being heat up as Thorin was offering him the softest, most affectionate of smiles.

“You’ll make a great consort,” He brushed his finger against Bilbo’s curly hair, smile widening at the almost shy smile that graced his beloved Hobbit’s lips.

“Soon, very soon.” He promised and pressed a quick kiss against Bilbo’s forehead, chuckling as Kíli and Frodo both wrinkled their noses at them, Fíli too tired to care at that moment.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude with Thranduil

For the time being Bilbo wasn’t announced as Consort-to-be, the King’s personal council, better known as the Company, having decided to wait till after the business with the Dwarves of Ered Luin had passed. That didn’t mean Bilbo was kept out of “the business” as Dwalin called it. Many of the Dwarves, both within and outside of the Company, were astounded to the natural political and diplomatic skill of the Hobbit from the Shire. Thorin just looked on with a deep pride blooming in his chest that made pleasant smiles show on the King’s lips more than once in public, sending his subjects into fits of intense debate. 

The King under the Mountain did not mind though, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Thorin was genuinely happy. He could return after long and trying days to warm, cozy chambers, a Hobbitling who was already calling him “Uncle Thorin!” with childish glee in his eyes, a Hobbit that loved him and finally a warm bed he shared with said Hobbit. That his hobbit had natural skills when it came to pleasantries, diplomacy and politics Thorin took as a pleasant bonus.

 

It was still early morning according to Bilbo’s still somewhat warped internal clock, when he was bodily removed from the comfort of his bed.  
“What, what is going on?” He croaked, his voice still rusty from sleep.  
“C’mon Uncle Boggins, we need you.” Kíli said loudly and helped Bilbo stand straight.

“What? Why, why?!” Bilbo demanded as he was dragged to the closet and forcibly clad until he slapped their hands away and finished clothing himself decently.   
Balin was waiting for them outside.  
“Wait, Frodo-“

“Mum’s taken care of him already, come along now, Uncle Bilbo.” Fíli urged and pushed Bilbo ahead.  
“Would someone PLEASE tell me what’s going on?” Bilbo sighed in irritation.   
“The ultimate test, Hobbit.” Dwalin joined their group seemingly from nowhere.   
“Test?” The Hobbit squeaked and a row of rather unpleasant scenarios ran through his head. Was it some form of strange Dwarven courting thing no one had informed him about.

“Now, get in there and do your best, laddie! We have faith in you!” Balin opened a door.  
“Could someone please elaborate-“  
“In you go!” The royal brothers pushed him and closed the door behind him. 

“Master Baggins, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” A silken voice said behind him. Bilbo turned and met the eyes of the Woodland King, Thranduil.   
“Y-your Majesty,” Bilbo said quickly and bowed his head in respect.  
“I was told one of the Dwarves’ more skilled diplomat would heed me today, though I dislike being brushed off like that I find myself not caring that much upon seeing who they sent.” The words were said in a way that almost made Bilbo confused about whether the king was praising, mocking or just arrogant. But Bilbo had spent quite some time with Elves.

“You are most kind, King Thranduil, my apologies on the behalf of the Dwarves, but the poor fools seem to have gotten a dispute with one of the southern clans.” This was the right way to phrase things in Thranduil’s company it seemed, for the ghost of a smile tugged at the Elf King’s lips.  
“I’ve heard rumors, now, let us get this over with, I am sure you are eager to be elsewhere, master Baggins.”

“On the contrary, my Lord, I’d be very pleased if I could show you how Erebor has prospered in these years after our meeting has ended, and you would do me great honor if you would join me at dinner tonight.” The thought of tormenting the Dwarves just a little ignited the spark of Tookish mischief within him at once. Thranduil got a similar spark in his own, bright eyes and genuinely smiled at him.   
“Why, Master Baggins, I would absolutely love to.”   
Hobbit and Elf chuckled knowingly, for Hobbits and Elves were closer in relation than one would think at first glance. 

 

Bilbo spent his day next to Thranduil, the diplomatic exchange went pleasantly and easily enough as the Elven King was much more compliant and easy to handle when it was Bilbo (or anyone who wasn’t a Dwarf) doing the handling. Around noon they took a break where Bilbo sent for both food and someone to take a message.

“Bofur, could you please inform his Majesty that a room in the ambassador wing needs to be prepared? Lord Thranduil is staying with us till tomorrow.” The Hobbit said pleasantly as food was carried into the hall behind him.  
“Sure, but, I haven’t heard anything about him staying…” Bofur arched a brow.  
“Oh, I insisted.” Bilbo said sweetly and smirked in satisfaction upon the subtle shudder of the Dwarf in front of him.  
“Right, remind me not to get on your bad side, mate, you’d see me married to some Elf or the like I take it.”  
“You know it.” Bilbo winked at his friend who shook his head and smiled in resignation. 

 

It wasn’t just Thorin that was displeased that their little plan of “Let the Hobbit handle the Elf” backfired when Bofur came to inform them of the turn of events.   
“Bilbo also informed me that he would dine with the Elf tonight.” Bofur continued and several of the company winced and glanced at Thorin.  
“Whose stupid idea was this?” The King growled, his nephews sinking low in their seats. 

As it turned out, Thranduil was pleasant company throughout the evening. He inquired about Hobbits just as much as Bilbo asked about Elves. At the end of the pleasant evening everyone in the Company had “checked in” at least once, but never dared to actually join this little dinner party the Elf and Hobbit had going.   
The following morning Bilbo saw Thranduil off, the Company quiet in the background.

“I must say, dear Bilbo, this has been the most pleasant stay I’ve ever had in this confounded mountain." There was a slight growl at Thranduil’s words, but it went ignored.

“Please know, that you are recognized as a friend of the Elves and will always be welcome in my realm.”  
“My thanks, Lord Thranduil.” Bilbo did a graceful bow with his head, the two exchanging knowing glances that irked the Dwarves further.  
“The Dwarves are lucky to have you, my friend. Till we meet again.” With those words Thranduil and his envoy began moving, heading back to the Woodland realm. 

The Elves weren’t yet out of sight before Bilbo was surrounded by “neglected” and “childishly jealous” Dwarves who all took a turn at hugging him possessively, their King positively growling while declaring Bilbo was never to speak with that up-to-no-good Elf. Bilbo just rolled his eyes and indulged them good-naturedly, for now.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves from Ered Luin arrives

The following week, the atmosphere in the mountain was a very different one, the mood slowly became more and more somber as the Dwarves prepared for the arrival of the Ered Luin Dwarfs. Bilbo did his best to soothe Thorin at night and called in Frodo on those nights when it was extra difficult. Thank the Valar that there was no problem or worry that a sleepy Hobbitling could not fix. Bilbo smiled fondly at his beloved with a sleeping Frodo draped over his chest. 

It saddened Bilbo all the same that Thorin was seemingly worrying about the amount of treasure the king of the Blue Mountains would ask for. He had to hope it was not the gold sickness returning, he had to have faith in his King. He smiled tenderly down at the sleeping Dwarf, kissed his brow and tucked the sheets around him and the Hobbitling and went over to his desk to finish up some documents. He had begun taking on more and more, to spare Thorin the brunt of it, so his Dwarf could instead do the kingly duties that was required outside of stuffy writing chambers and debating halls. Bilbo knew how much his Dwarf loved to walk amongst the people, to see firsthand how they prospered and grew every day. 

So Bilbo would sit up, way into the night, before he would crawl to bed for a few hours’ sleep. Then he would rise just before Thorin; freshen up in the bathing chamber before he met his beloved looking well rested and refreshed. It was a tiring routine, but Bilbo kept promising himself that when the business with Ered Luin was over with, he would get his rest, the fact that it was well earned would make it all the sweeter.

 

Bilbo was standing besides Balin by the throne when the Dwarves from the Blue Mountain marched into Erebor and towards the throne to be formally greeted by the King, by Thorin. The Hobbit was dressed in the royal blue color of the Durin line, symbols of his position within the innermost council well visible to anyone who looked at him. Bilbo had fretted about it at first, but given in easily enough when Thorin had actually said:  
“Please, Bilbo, I need you there beside me, even if you haven’t been announced consort yet.” 

Balin glanced at him in a very approving way though, the Hobbit looked bigger than he was, a certain kind of authority that must have matured in him after the journey and quest for Erebor rolled off him and the Hobbits eyes seemed wide awake and observing. The rest of the Hobbit’s features were set in polite welcoming, which Balin guessed was an art perfected long before he had been dragged away on adventures. He smiled almost sagely to himself before looking back at the approaching Dwarves. 

The Firebeard King looked as dour as ever, while his company was looking around Erebor with barely concealed awe that pleased the residents of Erebor greatly.   
“Welcome, King Belgár, son of Bùrlok, son of Belegár, to Erebor. We are pleased to have you here with us.” Thorin spoke up and rose from his throne, stepping down from it and clasped hands with King Belgár.

“And pleased we are to be so well received.” Belgár spoke, Bilbo found his voice much to meek to his tastes, then he was rather spoiled by the deep and rich tones that Thorin produced somewhere deep in his chest. A ghost of a smile trailed over his for a little moment before he slipped back into his mask of politeness. 

The King of the Blue Mountain let his eyes trail over those who stood by the throne; no one sat for that meant they were equal to the king. Only Crown princes or Consorts sat by the king, Fíli chose to stand with his brother and there was no consort (public announced anyway). The King’s eyes stopped when they reached Bilbo.

“A Hobbit…?” He spoke in surprise; Bilbo wasn’t surprised the King knew of his folk what with living so relatively close to the Shire.  
“Your Majesty,” Bilbo greeted and bowed his head as was custom.  
“Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit who helped us retake the mountain all those years ago.” Thorin elaborated, a proud smile sent to Bilbo for a brief second that he appreciated by glancing back at the Dwarf. 

“I thought your kind never left the comfort of your green, rolling hills.” King Belgár spoke to him directly.  
“When the need is great enough, even we Hobbits can step up to the task to protect that of friends and family.” Bilbo defended his people, it might sound a bit lit poet talk, but somewhere in his heart he knew it was true.

“But we are fonder of solving troubles by a good meal and words, than picking up axes and swords to repaint our hills. We like them in their current color.” The extended answer rolled of his tongue and he watched the king closely for his reaction.   
There was a flash of insult in those bland eyes before he laughed loudly.

“This one has spark, I see, well-chosen then, Thorin.” He complimented, but something about him made Bilbo feel a bit uneasy, he would soon enough learn why.

 

They were assembled in one of the many council halls after a hearty welcoming feast put up for the newly arrived Dwarves.   
“Now, if I may be so blunt as to go straight to business.” Belgár motioned to Thorin who replied silently in kind. Belgár rose from his seat.  
“Many years ago, you and your people came to me, seeking aid and refuge. That we granted you out of kinship.” Belgár paused to look at Thorin.  
“And we are to this day grateful for your offer, King Belgár.” Thorin was backed up by murmurs of consent around him. Belgár nodded, pleased at the answer.  
“A bond was forged between us then, as kin we became closer, as kingdoms we became allies.” Belgár churned on and Bilbo nearly felt his already heavy eyelids drop a little. 

“And today we have come, to ask you to renew this bond, to tie it tighter still so our kingdoms might thrive and prosper like never before.”  
“Our coffers go deep, King Belgár, name a reward and we shall gladly give it to you. Your help was truly valuable; we would not have made it here without it.”  
“I will not ask for gold, King Thorin, I truly seek to tighten our bonds.”  
“With what then, King Belgár?”

“With my daughter,” Belgár motioned towards the one of the three female Dwarves in his group; she was a pretty thing, her hair and beard braided intricately and her neck, ears and wrists were ornate with sparkling jewels. 

“Given to you, King Thorin, through marriage. This shall bring our Kingdoms even closer.”   
Thorin froze and Bilbo felt his entire body go tense as his mouth opened slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote a short letter from Sam to Frodo set in the First Letter world. As usual I posted it on Tumblr, I think it got lost in the aftermath of the ....things (those who were involved know what it is I speak of) that went on there right after april 1. 
> 
> Oh well


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait on this! But life got in the way, please forgive me?

Balin had a quick glance at Thorin before he stepped forward, the gears in his mind turning swiftly. 

“That is, most gracious of you King Belgár, but the council of the King must gather and discuss this properly before we can accept or-“  
“There will be no accepting in this matter!” Thorin had gotten up on his feet quickly, his voice rough with poorly veiled anger. King Belgár didn’t even flinch.   
“Surely you see the strength such a union can bring.” The Firebeard King said slowly. 

“I only see you making off with the power and riches Erebor has to offer.” Thorin sneered back, all sense of diplomacy running away. Balin closed his eyes, his expression that of helplessness. 

“Come now, Thorin, if you would remember the riches still in Belegost and the strategic upper hand that will come from such an union, even you cannot decline.”  
“I can very much still decline,” Thorin was still seething and Bilbo was slowly returning from his shock and was almost on his way to calm the King but froze to a stop.

“I am not such a King that promises himself to one and then throws that away because of political matches.” Thorin scoffed, this new information finally seemed to rock Belgár out of balance.

“You are bonded?” He questioned.  
“I intend to be soon, we had hoped to be able to give this news in calmer times but I refuse to let it be overplayed by, whatever this is.” Thorin continued.  
“Who is of importance enough then, to have caught the interest of the King?” This time it wasn’t Belgár who spoke, but one of Thorin’s own councilors.  
“One of the bravest that I know of, one who is more than worthy enough for a King,” Thorin let his eyes roam over almost everyone in the room, daring them to speak up.

“I wish to make Bilbo Baggins my Prince Consort,” He spoke up and the hall went absolutely quiet as Thorin turned to look at the Hobbit, now a soft and caring smile on his lips.

“Though I hope the Hero of Erebor can forgive my impatience.” The words that had been gruff and filled with power were now soft with heavy tunes of affection. The words made Bilbo blush, but how Thorin looked at him had him smiling like a lovesick fool at the King before he gathered himself and straightened up, narrowing his eyes at Thorin’s affectionate smirk before the King turned his attention back at his council. 

Bilbo’s eyes darted to the councilors of Erebor and to his amazement, and endless relief, none of them seemed put off by the idea that their King would bond with a Hobbit. In fact some of them were even nodding their agreement and consent. Bilbo had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t smile.

“I agree with the strengthening of bonds, but I believe it can be done without the bonds of marriage.” Thorin’s words sounded very final and Bilbo had no doubt the King would be so incredibly smug for handling such a speech with seemingly calm and a great amount of eloquence that hadn’t been seen in him for ages. King Belgár did not look too impressed though.

“What of your sister’s sons then, Thorin?” Bilbo gaped a little again, now from the plain rudeness of the other king. This was unheard of, the nerve! Bilbo shifted about a bit, irritated and a little out raged on Thorin’s behalf. His gaze fell on the till now neutral looking princess, now she looked a little distressed though and was that disgust? Bilbo looked over to the two princes, but they were too busy yelling in alarm.

“Enough!” Thorin barked “I won’t use any of my kin and family as bargaining chips, Belgár!” The King of Ered Luin was about to speak when Thorin beat him to it.  
“My people have suffered through long and hard times; they deserve to be happy now that we finally have our home back. My family has suffered through just the same and I won’t take from them their chance to happiness either. We will forge alliances, Belgár, if you are willing to do so without bonds and promises of matrimony, court is in recess till after lunch.” And with that Belgár had to begrudgingly give Thorin the last word as he drew back and out of the hall with his own Dwarves. 

“Well done, laddie, that was very well put.” Balin praised Thorin as he patted him on the shoulder, the councilors of Erebor also trekking out of the hall with the promise of food. Thorin sent Balin a grateful look before turning to Bilbo.

“Bilbo, I know that I-“ The King was silenced by two slender fingers to his lips. 

“I am happy, Thorin, I am very happy.” Bilbo smiled at him and the smile he got back made his heart flutter in his chest.   
“Shall we get to lunch?” Balin asked when Thorin seemed to be slowly getting closer to Bilbo.

“Ah, no, I’ll be dining with family today. We will see you here after the recess, Balin.” Thorin offered his most trusted advisor a smile. “I feel bad for not having had the time for Frodo these past days.” Thorin added and Bilbo just melted. He didn’t even try to restrain his glee as he dragged Thorin to their chambers and the little Hobbit. 

 

“-And then I showed Kadrin how to weave a flower crown! But there were so many flowers we decided to make a garland instead and it became so huge!” Frodo waved his arms for emphasis, nearly hitting Thorin in the jaw as the Hobbitling was seated on the King’s lap as they ate. Thorin ducked skillfully and only chuckled and the little one’s eagerness. 

“It is good that you’ve found friends, Frodo.” He rumbled, ruffling Frodo’s hair as the Hobbitling giggled gleefully. Bilbo watched them fondly and didn’t bother to correct Frodo’s table manners for once. He was just glad that his nephew was happy, with Thorin busy being King and Bilbo busy preparing for becoming Prince Consort as well as already being a trusted advisor, they never really had the time they wanted to spend with Frodo. They knew the Hobbitling didn’t suffer or miss them too bad, there was always someone who could keep an eye on him or keep him entertained. 

Ori had taken to helping the boy reply to the letters he had begun getting from the Shire, Fíli and Kíli would take their little cousin out exploring, Dwalin was often seen with the Hobbitling on his shoulders as he made rounds to check on his guards, Dori and Nori (because Dori refused to let Nori handle Frodo alone) would take the Hobbit to the market and introduce him to Dwarves that had young ones themselves so to heighten the chance of Frodo gaining playmates at his own age, Oin together with Gloin and maybe even his wife would take the Hobbitling outside and up to the woods to gather herbs and other ingredients for Oin’s salves and ointments, Bofur usually brought the Hobbitling to the toy shop he had set up for Bifur as the mines where Bofur usually worked wasn’t really a place for a young Hobbit and while they were at the Toy Shop, Bombur would arrive and spoil them rotten with the best cakes from the royal kitchens. 

Oh no, Bilbo wasn’t afraid for Frodo’s wellbeing and happiness, he just wished he could spend more time with his beloved nephew. And seeing Thorin and Frodo interact brought even a warmer feeling to the soon to be Prince consort’s chest. 

When Frodo later fell asleep on Thorin’s chest when Bilbo was telling the lad a story, Thorin carried the Hobbitling to his and Bilbo’s bed. Bilbo just smiled and let it pass this time and went into the bath chamber to get ready for the night with Thorin. The Dwarf made sure that his Hobbit was peppered with small kisses, causing himself to neglect his own night time ritual, Bilbo chuckled at Thorin’s antics and climbed into bed and gathering Frodo into his embrace.

Watching Thorin extinguish the various lights around the main chamber and then bed chamber before joining them on the spacious bed. He curled his arms around his Hobbits almost protectively and Bilbo found he didn’t mind at all on this particular night and just made himself comfortable against his Dwarf and gave a content sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter for some time (which is why I didn't write a cliffhanger or anything) I have exams to study for now so I have to be vigilant if I want to pass them, once that is done though, I should be able to get back to you fairly quickly!   
> For those of you reading The Weight of Love , I will try to get the next chapter up but it is unlikely at this point so the same thing goes for that one, things will progress much faster once my exams are over (I hope!) 
> 
> I promise you this though, the story (both of them) will be finished and I still have my plans for future fictions if no one murders me for my silly writing. 
> 
> All the best to you  
> NorthSol


	17. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has happened:
> 
> Thorin has announced Bilbo as his consort to be to the King of the Firebeard Dwarves, who wanted Thorin to marry his daughter to strengthen the bonds between the two kingdoms. When faced with Bilbo as Thorin's fiance, the Ered Luin King proposed Fili or Kili marrying his daughter instead. Thorin refused and the King seemingly accepted it.  
> Now they are in political sessions to clear out how they will strengthen their bond without matrimony. 
> 
> At the same time, Frodo is making friends within the mountain, but still misses his old friends from the Shire. For now he is simply glad his uncles finally have time to spend with him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for my looong absence !! Writer's block, personal drama and depression stood in the way, now I've finally got the gears back and turning though! Cast a look at the summary if you haven't already! It sums up what has happened till now!

Bilbo wasn’t at court the following day, there wasn’t much he could add as he felt the Firebeard Dwarves looked down their noses at him. Thorin puffed up into rage at once this was mentioned and wanted to bring Bilbo just so he could prove the Hobbit’s worth. Bilbo just shook his head and calmed his Dwarf. The rest of the company, that had joined them for breakfast on this morn, watched in astonishment as Bilbo calmed and reasoned with the King till the anger deflated and he nodded obediently.

“Come, Balin, I want this business with King Belgár over with as soon as possible.” Thorin rose from the table and straightened his clothing; the even more official regalia would be added outside the court hall. Balin nodded and followed his king, smiling as Thorin took the time to blow at Frodo’s nose before kissing the Fauntling’s forehead as he chuckled. 

“what do you say to spending some time with your old uncle today, Frodo?” Bilbo smiled behind his tea cup at the aghast look in his nephew’s face.  
“Uncle, you are not old!” Frodo waved his fork in Bilbo’s direction.  
“Don’t wave the cutlery around, young man.”  
“Sorry…”

“But I was thinking we could take a look at the garden areas of Erebor, not that there are many.”  
Frodo nodded eagerly and Bilbo smiled at his nephew.  
“That area is a bit remote, you should take someone with you…” Dwalin muttered.  
“Nonsense! I can take care of myself AND Frodo just fine, honestly, you Dwarves overthink these things.”  
“This isn’t the Shire, but as you wish.” Dwalin gave up with a grumble.

“There doesn’t seem to be any stirrings anywhere, not even in the underground, it’s been boringly silent everywhere.” Nori commented.  
“Good!” Dwalin barked and Nori just rolled his eyes.   
“Are you finished eating, shall we go Frodo my lad?” Bilbo offered, ignoring the increasing bickering between the head of the guard and newly appointed spymaster of Erebor. He lifted Frodo to his shoulders and walked from the hall, Frodo’s pleasant chattering in his ear.

 

The garden areas of Erebor were in a poor state; Bilbo supposed no one had bothered what with all the restoring work had gone into the living areas alone.  
“Seems we’ve found ourselves a project, don’t you think?”  
“Can we grow strawberries?”  
“Sure we can, if we can get some more decent sunlight down here and warmth, then we can grow nice big and juice strawberries.” 

“Do you think Sam will come if I tell him there are big gardens here!?” Frodo’s excitement at the thought of bringing his friend over was both heartfelt and a little paining.   
“We’ll see, my boy, we’ll see.” Bilbo said diplomatically and had to let loose a smile at his nephew’s almost sage like nodding in return.

“Gardening and garden keeping is not on a Dwarven hobby list.” A light and somewhat nasal voice spoke behind them. Bilbo spun around with Frodo peeking at the stranger from behind his uncle’s legs.   
“Princess, you are not with you father in the Court today?” Bilbo was surprised to see Belgár’s daughter in front of him, here in the gardens.   
“The Court no longer interests me,” She replied with a slight huff, reminding the Hobbit of those fairy tales about spoiled young women and men that were later forced through hardships to prove their worth. 

“I see, well, I know Dwarves are not much for gardening, but this place must have been beautiful once and it will be again. If not for their own sake, it will be pleasing for Human and Elven eyes visiting.” Bilbo pulled on his diplomat mask, his voice steady and smooth. 

The princess however wrinkled her nose.  
“Elves and Humans,” she spat, before turning harsh eyes against Bilbo. “See what filth you allow into a once proud Dwarven mountain, your silver tongue is far into the King’s ear.”  
“Excuse me?” Bilbo frowned at these accusations.   
“You have no place here, Halfling, with you by the throne Erebor will fall into ruin!” 

Frodo made a small noise and hid more behind Bilbo who now felt hot ire run through him.  
“Excuse me, but what right do you have to criticize me, when all I see is a kingdom that is growing greater and greater by each passing week, no, day. Your words betray you, Princess; they show your ignorance and clearly warped view. I am sorry you have been led to such falsities, but I must insist you cease your baseless accusations and blame, as they are utterly ridiculous and more importantly; baseless!” Soon-to-be-Consort went into polite mode and said his words with a stone face any of his Dwarves would have been proud of. 

“I knew a lower creature like you would not see reason, I wasn’t much inclined to a pardon anyways. I will save this people and its King, with your consent or nay.” She waved her hand forward twice and from the sides and from behind her guards appeared, and they did not bear Ereborian armor. They grabbed Bilbo with ironclad hands and Bilbo cried out in outrage.

“Unhand me in this very instant!” he barked at them.  
“Get rid of this nuisance. “ The princess waved her hand at them again and turned around to leave.  
“You’re insane if you think this will go unnoticed!” Bilbo hissed at her.

“I will make sure to tell the King how you expressed disgust and how you finally gave in and left as you couldn’t spend a moment longer in this ruined mountain, the pressure of becoming Consort too great for you, and you took that half-bred child with you too, take care of him as well.”  
“Run, Frodo, hide!” Bilbo managed to yell before he was being dragged away.

“Don’t you dare touch him, if you lay one hand on him….!”  
“I could have used him as a bargaining chip against you, but this is much more final and like this I will be sure you won’t return once you’ve put him away.”  
“Stay away from my Frodo!” Bilbo fought furiously, kicking several and even biting. He was using every trick he had ever been taught (or learned by himself.) There were simply too many though, and they had the upper hand on him. They dragged him deeper into the gardens, into a side tunnel which only led to a chamber with a black, seemingly bottomless hole in it. 

“Just in case it is shallower than it looks.” One gruff voice said, and before Bilbo could shout again, white hot searing pain shot through him and he stared down with wide eyes, he saw the hand holding the knife, and the red that started to bleed through his shirt rapidly, just above his abdomen. The hand ripped the knife out and he gasped, moving his shocked gaze up, his mouth moving but no words reaching through. Then he was lifted, before he was free and weightless. The darkness swallowed him and he fell, mind spinning with a thousand thoughts.

“T-Thorin,” he had meant to shout on top of his lungs, but it was naught but a whisper that didn’t even bother to bounce back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I won't be gone for as long as last time this time. Promise.


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter not too far behind ^^

Even if Frodo was scared and wanted nothing more than getting into his Uncle’s safe arms, he ran when Bilbo shouted at him. For now his uncle put up more than enough fuss to keep the bad men at bay. Tears trailed down his face and his heart pounded so harshly in his chest that it hurt. This was no game and Frodo didn’t like it one bit. Sobs puffed out of him uncontrollably as his small feet carried him towards a dark tunnel in a far corner of the garden. Still he could hear his Uncle’s yelling and shouting, yelling for the bad people not to touch his Frodo. 

The dark tunnel went down steeply, but Frodo had no choice but to slip and slide down. Now he could hear the heavy steps of Dwarves clad in harsh steel behind him. They were cursing and grunting as they easily fell in the steep tunnel, Frodo swiftly took to the left and pressed his lithe body through a crack in the wall. It was too dark in there to see anything as he spun around quickly, eyes searching for a way in a panicky manner. He pressed himself to the side so he could not be spotted through the crack as he heard the Dwarves getting closer. 

Just as one of them passed the crack Frodo had forced himself through, he fell and slipped uncontrollably down the tunnel until there was a loud splash. The Dwarf cursed colorfully and groaned up at the others. 

“It’s too dark down here, and there seems to be water from an underground lake.”  
“Probably used for the garden.” One further up said.  
“Post men at the entrance, that little runt isn’t getting anywhere, if he hasn’t drowned already. “

Frodo pressed a hand hard over his mouth to prevent the whimper from getting out. His entire body was shaking and the tears ran freely as he shut his eyes tight against this waking nightmare. Oh, what could he do? What could he do? What if Uncle Bilbo was hurt by the Bad men? 

Frodo had to strangle a hiccup and carefully opened his eyes. The area around him slowly became more visible as his eyes adjusted. Not trusting himself to stay quiet, he kept the hand over his mouth as he began moving deeper. He stumbled and fell, scraping his knees in the process, and had to remove his hand from his mouth from that point on.

In this light he was more or less blind, he sniffed loudly. If only Uncle Thorin was here, he would know what to do…Uncle Thorin…! He was King, he could help Frodo and Uncle Bilbo, he would help! And Dwalin too, and all the others…!

Frodo wiped his eyes for tears with a dirty hand, before clenching his jaw stubbornly. He’d find his other Uncle and the nasty lady, that was worse than Lobelia or any Sackville-Baggins had ever been, and the Bad Men would be punished they would.   
‘Go upwards or follow your nose’, Bofur had told him once when Frodo had worried about getting lost in the dark of the mountain.   
‘That’s perhaps one of the Mountain’s better features, if you go up, at one point the light will find you.’

 

Thorin stared dumbstruck at the princess as her announcement on Bilbo’s behalf went through his head like the echo of battle drums. He looked at her, but he didn’t really see her. His mouth opened and wordless questions would have come out if it had not been for the commotion at the back.

“Bombur?” Balin snapped out of the shock Thorin still struggled a little with.   
“Frodo just came popping out from the drain in the kitchens!” Poor Bombur was still pretty rattled by the events and waved his arms about.   
“Frodo?” Thorin was up on his legs in an instant, but his eyes did not leave the Princess who now looked right sour. 

“He’s all hysteric rambles and sobs, but I fear something terrible has happened.”

“What have you done to my Consort and Nephew!?” Thorin thundered at the Firebeard Dwarves without batting an eyelid.  
“Such accusations are grave, King Thorin-“ Belgár began, but Thorin ignored him and continued, now turning his attention back to the princess.

“Do you think me a blighted fool? Do you honestly expect me to believe my Hobbit has left me without a word, do you think our bond to be that shallow?!” Thorin’s voice thundered out in the hall.   
“I will only ask nicely one more time, where is MY Hobbit!?”

“Uncle,” A tiny voice hiccupped, but in the deathly silence that had followed Thorin’s thunder, it might as well have been as mighty as a Balrog’s roar.   
“Frodo,” The King under the mountain rushed over to the bruised and tear streaked Hobbitling. He ran his hands over the lithe body swiftly, taking the boy into his arms swiftly after. He soothed as best he could, his heart bleeding at the sobs that racked his boy. 

“T-The Bad Men took Un-Uncle Bilbo.”   
“Shh, shh my little, brave boy. Where did they take him, where were you?”  
“I-in the Gardens, and that Nasty Lady was there as well!” Frodo pointed a finger with bruised knuckles at the frozen Princess.  
“Seize her, don’t let any of them out of sight.” Thorin growled lowly and Dwalin was there at once with his guards.   
“What, you cannot treat us like this, I’ll have-“ 

“You will have nothing King Belgár, son of Bùrlok, son of Belegár, for how my closest and beloved have been treated by you and your kin, and if something has happened to my consort, you can be damned sure that I will run Ered Luin to the ground!”   
Belgár swallowed and drew back, admitting defeat for now. But he kept casting glances at his still unreadable daughter.

“Dwalin, you’re coming with me, get some of your guards. Bombur, take care of Frodo, go see Oin.” The King of Erebor rose to his full height and was out of the hall in mighty strides that had others jump out of his way. 

“Bilbo,” He muttered under his breath, and even though his voice was quiet, the halls seemed to whisper the Hobbit’s name with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to resolve everything in this chapter but then thought; Naaah, that's too easy


	19. Chapter 18

Everything ached, his eyes were stinging even if they were closed and his ears were ringing but in a far off way as if he was under water. He distinctly wasn’t though, his skin was dry and it smelt pleasantly around him. 

He forced his eyes to open; even if his sight was blurred it was lighter than what he had imagined. He could distinguish beams of light through the ceiling, but he had no idea where it could be coming from, other than outside but that was bizarre as he had fallen way deeper into the mountain than he had ever been before.   
He felt cold, but strangely warm all at once and he furrowed his brows at the gentle breeze that caressed his skin.

“Am I in the Lady’s meadows…?” His voice was raspy and quiet.  
‘Not quite, Bilbo Baggins, but close enough for now…’ A voice flew softly both around and in him.   
“Who…”  
‘Hush, Bilbo Baggins of my Shire, I will take care of you’ a hand, as gentle as the voice belonging to it, passed over his curls soothingly and Bilbo closed his eyes again and let the comforting warmth wash through him. In the back of his mind he couldn’t help but to think of his late mother, Belladonna. But before he could think more over these matters, his mind went blissfully silent and relaxed.

 

They barged into the gardens and easily subdued the Firebeards still there.  
“Where is Bilbo, you scum!” Thorin roared at one of the Firebeard Dwarves, grabbing the man’s collar and shaking him like a rag doll.   
“S-She ordered us to toss him in, over there.” The guard pointed shakily in the direction of the shallow tunnel when faced with the Dwarf King’s wrath. Thorin tossed the other Dwarf to the ground before hurrying over, there the King froze.   
By the well there were splutters of a substance that could only be blood, he rushed over to the well and leaned over, but the darkness was too great for him to see anything.

“Bilbo!” He bellowed into the compact darkness. His shout went deep into the well and further dread settled in the King at the sheer depth of this well.   
“No one could survive such a fall…” Dwalin’s voice was quiet behind him. Thorin clenched his fists till they ached.  
“Get Bofur down her and tell him to bring the wall equipment, I will find him Dwalin or Mahal help me,” Thorin gritted out through clenched teeth.  
“At once, Thorin.”

 

Faintly Bilbo thought he could hear something, an echo of something dear to him. But as he rested in the soft hold of the gentle voice, the meaning of the echo escaped him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a quiet voice, eyes still closed to the world around him. The voice chuckled softly before words reminding him of warm days in his garden and breeze through the East Farthing Woods.

‘The mountains and its peoples are my husband’s creations, before, now long ago; his children knew me and respected me as their creator’s spouse, it faded quickly as the Children of the Stone favor darkness and fire, above light and earth. I was abandoned by them.’  
“That wasn’t very nice…” Bilbo mumbled. The voice chuckled again.  
‘No, but they are my husband’s children, I watch over them all the same. And then I also have you, child of my own.’ Soft lips pressed against his forehead.  
“Bilbo!” 

‘I leave you now, beloved child of mine, take care and be forever strong like the deep roots,’ the voice whispered into his ear before drifting away. 

 

Slowly Bilbo opened his eyes, Bofur’s worried face coming into view.  
“Well bless me, lad, how are you still alive?” Bofur’s bafflement was highly warped by his worry, Bilbo turned his head to the side and his eyes widened. Through cracks in the mountain, sun light streamed down and did not meet hard, cold stone. Instead there was a beautiful, soft, alive and inviting meadow. A water fall rustled pleasantly to the left and had over the years dug out a pool from which the small lake in the meadow took its water from. 

“H-how…” Bilbo rasped and Bofur looked up at the beautiful, underground meadow.   
“I’m not sure, the well you were thrown into was prior used to toss away waste and weeds from what Balin told me. How a place like this can spring from that, I do not know…”

Bilbo struggled to sit up and Bofur swiftly steadied him. “Stay still, I’d be right amazed if you hadn’t broken every bone in that little body of yours.”  
“I haven’t,” Bilbo said confidently before looking at Bofur, “Please, help me stand.” Bofur frowned but complied.  
“Are you sure? You are not in pain?”  
“Of course I am in pain, but I don’t think I’m broken.”  
“I don’t believe you, Bilbo, that fall should have killed you!”  
Bilbo eyed something hidden behind moss and other greenery.  
“I would seem the Green Lady watches over me,” He said reverently.

“The Green Lady?” Bofur looked over in the direction Bilbo was looking and his eyes widened as well. “Is that…?”  
Together they made their way to what seemed like an oddly shaped stone overgrown throughout the years. Bofur removed some of the moss and as runes came into view he gave an awed whistle.  
“To our Lord’s kindly Wife and One, Yavanna.” He read out loud to Bilbo.  
“This is a temple,” Bilbo looked up at the cracks and could easily see that they were rather too well made to be natural cracks.   
“I didn’t know Dwarves were capable of this…” Bofur said quietly.   
“Perhaps you are also The Lady’s children, even if it is only a part as big as your littlest toe.” Bilbo grinned.  
“Heh, but if this is a temple, there should be an exit other than the hole we came through.”

 

It seemed like ages had passed up in the Gardens, Bofur’s climber equipment had stopped moving all together, but no matter how much they shouted down the well, there were no replies. 

At least they had received word that Frodo was doing better now he was in the care of loving Dwarves and some fiercely protective princelings. The little Hobbit was still rather worried for his Uncle Bilbo though, even more so as no one could tell him anything about how he was or even where he was.   
Even with Frodo safe, Thorin’s heart felt like it would wither out of his chest at any moment. He stared helplessly down the well one last time before he allowed Dwalin to lead him out of the tunnel all together. 

“It wasn’t meant to be like this…” He muttered darkly and looked at a symbolic icon of their creator on the far wall.  
“Why would you design such horrors…” 

Dwalin put a heavy hand on Thorin’s shoulder and just shook his head as the King scowled at the icon. In reply the icon made a strange sound that had all the remaining Dwarves in the Gardens jumping up in shock. The icon came tumbling out of the wall and shattered on the stone ground.

“What in Durin’s name…” Thorin mumbled, wide eyed next to Dwalin as two shapes took form in the swiftly receding dust.  
“Bilbo…?”

“Sorry, the stairs were rather hidden,” Bofur grinned happily at them all, Bilbo looked tired and a little pale, but otherwise fine. Thorin didn’t even notice that he had moved over until he had the weakened Hobbit in his arms.

“I am alright, my Love…” Bilbo said lowly.  
“Are you truly?” Thorin just kept his Hobbit close.  
“…No, I ache all over, I’m tired and sore and my ears still ring…” Bilbo sagged against Thorin who smiled softly.

“You are safe now, and I’ll take care of you, my One.” He kissed Bilbo’s soft curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for benevolent divinities! 
> 
> We are actually almost at the end of this story now my people :)


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it people, this is the end of First Letter! :) It's been a bumpy ride, but it is finished!  
> Please enjoy the last chapter.

Bilbo’s stab wound had mysteriously vanished, and only a thin scar gave away that there had once been a wound. Given the length Bilbo had fallen, even if he had landed in a soft meadow, should have rendered several bones broken, yet there were only superficial wounds and sore muscles and aching bones that plagued the Hobbit. 

Oin had scratched his head many times over this, and for each time Bilbo repeated that Mahal’s wife had held a gentle hand over his head, he scoffed a little less as nothing else could explain the mystery that was the future Consort’s survival. 

 

As Bilbo was alive and mostly well, Thorin grudgingly agreed not to go to war with Ered Luin. He demanded compensation to both himself, Bilbo and Frodo however, as was his right. Belgár, who had not had anything to do with the plot against Bilbo, agreed to give the kingdom of Belegost unconditionally to the line of Durin which effectively caused the demanded house arrest of the princess to tread into full and immediate effect as she was never to step even close to the line of Durin’s kingdoms and areas. She was also forced to renounce her right to the throne and both her and her father had to cut the braids that showed their royal status, forever shaming their family. 

Thorin grumbled for a good long while that this was going to easy on the vultures, but agreed to the terms as he lost nothing and it would not benefit him at all to go to war even if he so wished. There was also the sensible voice of the King’s would-be Consort that spoke of sickness of the mind within the princess and that she not lose her life for her pathetic control. 

 

Frodo refused to leave his Uncle Bilbo’s side in the following days, and even went with when Bilbo attended court. No one said anything, but it was heartwarming to not only see a Hobbitling, but also the King, worry and dote on an increasingly annoyed future Consort.  
The Court also warmed more up to Bilbo as the Firebeards left the Mountain, even if there had been a tragedy, everything had resolved itself and Erebor had gained a mighty lot without losing as much as dust from the treasury. 

When Bilbo proclaimed that he was not going to make a habit of this, everyone just laughed good naturedly while the King’s grip on his Hobbit tightened maybe just a little.

 

_“Dear Hamfast Gamgee,  
It has been too long since we supposed adults have corresponded, while our beloved children have most likely worn the rangers and trading caravans to the bone with their ceaseless letters and small gifts to one another. _

_Here in the Mountain, things have finally settled down after a rather unpleasant incident with another Dwarf clan I suppose we could call it. It is all over now and things have finally gone back to its usual calm, which is to say, its usual running about and excitement. I’m afraid only the Tooks and maybe the Brandybucks would enjoy life in Erebor, at least in the upper society with the court._

_How fare things in Hobbiton? I do miss it, you know, and I still think of it as a home. But Erebor is another home, at the moment it is my most important home, the place for me to be._

_But I didn’t just send this letter for pleasantries, sadly enough.  
Within one of the roots of the mountain, there is a lost temple to our Lady Yavanna, It seems the Dwarves did once remember that our Lady is the Wife of Lord Mahal, their creator. As strange as it might sound without further explanation, this temple saved me from certain outcomes of that unpleasant incident I mentioned above. _

_The temple has a form of a beautiful and soft meadow with small, gentle hills with a spring and water fall. Sunlight reaches through the stone and the temple holds a constant pleasant temperature during the day. I would like to restore this temple and the garden areas in the level above. To do this I would need some seeds and advice, which is why I have turned to you, my dear friend._

_The soil in the temple is of most excellent quality, rich and has access to sufficient water and sun light. The Gardens on the level above need some work, I can get some richer soil, but it won’t be enough to replace all the earth. I will also get some Dwarves to open up the mountain a bit, using mirror systems to guide and scatter sunlight in the gardens, we also have to create a watering system, but it can be done._

_I would be most obliged if you would be willing to send me some suitable seeds and advice for further planting in these two areas. Not to worry, you will be compensated when you name your price together with the seeds._

_Your friend,  
Bilbo Baggins _

“Are you writing a letter to the Shire, Uncle?”  
“Yes, Frodo, to Hamfast, I’ll need some help with the gardens after all.” Bilbo turned to smile at the boy who rushed over.  
“I must write a letter to Sam then!”  
“Oh Frodo, you wrote him last week,” Bilbo chuckled.  
“But now you’re sending a letter as well and that makes it more convenient for the courier!”  
“Well, you got that right, alright, you have till tomorrow to write letters.” Bilbo just shook his head at the victory cry that came from the Fauntling.

“I thought I heard a Dwarven battle cry?” Thorin closed the door behind him.  
“Frodo is going to write another letter,” Bilbo rolled his eyes.  
“And that called for a battle cry?” Thorin arched a brow.  
“What can I say; he spends far too much time with rowdy Dwarves.” 

“Ah, but my Hobbit,” Thorin embraced Bilbo and kissed his curls “You’re quite intimate with such a rowdy Dwarf, I’d say you’re leading a terrible example for the boy.”  
Bilbo nearly giggled, but managed to compose it into a wheezy chuckle as he leant into Thorin’s arms.  
“Have you written the letter?” The two watched Frodo eagerly hunched over the writing desk, ink splattering around, but no one had a heart to stop and calm him.

“Yes, I’ll send it with Frodo’s tomorrow, the first letter among many I suppose.”  
King under the mountain and future Consort looked at each other, smiling warmly. Until Thorin couldn’t take it any longer and leant forward just in that moment Frodo chose to turn around to ask his Uncles about something, only to see his Uncles in yet another lip lock. Like any respectable Hobbitling his age, he scrunched up his face and made distressed noises at such sickly sweet affection.

Thorin and Bilbo pulled apart and captured Frodo so the noises turned to giggles.  
Bilbo let Thorin take over and looked on with a fond smile, hopefully the future would be just as carefree, even after the First Letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO here we are, I hope you've all enjoyed it!  
> As it might be hinted, there may be a continuation to the First Letter, there are things not yet finished (such as Bilbo still only being Future Consort, Frodo and his friends, the Ring, etc etc) 
> 
> Tell me what you think about this becoming a series :) and also, if you liked my story, feel free to check out my other stories, for now there is only one other Hobbit fic, but more are arriving as this one now is finished.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, it's been wonderful !

**Author's Note:**

> I await your response...
> 
> (Credit to Felis-Lupus for her proofreading and in general not tiring of me ^^;)


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